Chapter 67
CHAPTER 67
SPENCER
I sat in my office, staring at the computer screen but seeing nothing. I couldn’t stop thinking about how to make the night special for Marlow. We were on this high and I didn’t want it to end.
I wanted to prove to her that I wasn’t having a temporary good mood. I was a changed man. She needed me to prove it to her and that was exactly what I was going to do. Last night, we’d been so caught up with each other, I had not told her about the situation with my mother.
“Hey,” I heard her voice.
I looked up and saw her standing in the doorway of my office. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.”
She grinned. “Oh, yeah? What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking I’d like to take you out for a nice dinner,” I suggested. “Like a real date.”
I was envisioning a cozy little place where we could unwind and talk some more. Candlelight, soft music, and just the two of us enjoying a good meal.
She grimaced. “That sounds amazing, and I would normally jump at the chance, but I’m exhausted. It has been an overwhelming day—in a good way. And somebody kept me up most of the night. Can I get a raincheck on the nice dinner and maybe we just have a quiet dinner at my place or your place?”
“Uh, my place might not be exactly romantic.” I sighed.
“Why not?”
I hesitated for a second. “My mom’s there.”
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Your mom? How did that happen?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s a long story.”
“It sounds like an important story,” she said, walking into my office and sitting down.
I wasn’t going to hold back anything. Not anymore. She and I were as one. We needed to be on the same page. “I think she and my dad are in a fight,” I said. “She showed up at my place unannounced. She was a little off.”
“Off?”
“Apologetic,” I answered. “I don’t know, it’s weird.”
“Where is your dad?”
“No idea,” I said. “Normally, they’re on the same page, or at least that’s always the impression I’ve had. But this fight? It feels bigger than any petty disagreement they’ve had in the past. She’s showing no sign of being in a hurry to get back to Florida.”
Marlow looked concerned. “How do you feel about her being around after what happened the day they were kicked out of the hotel?”
I thought back to the conversation I had with my mom after that debacle. “Honestly? The one conversation I had with her where she apologized was the best quality time I think I’ve ever had with her. She made me breakfast.”
“Is that a strange thing?” She laughed.
“Very strange. She doesn’t do that. My mother doesn’t dote. I know she’s trying to be a good mother. It’s weird, but I want to give her the chance.”
Marlow’s expression softened. “Then let’s go back to your place. We can include your mother. I’ll make dinner.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, worried about how she might feel being thrust into such an awkward situation.
“Absolutely,” she insisted. “It’ll be nice. I’ll stop by the store and get what I need. Is there anything you’re craving?”
“You.”
She laughed. “Besides me. What does your mom like to eat?”
“I don’t think you want to try and please her,” I said. “Yes, she’s trying to turn over a new leaf, but I can’t promise it’s going to stick.”
She looked thoughtful. “I can make spaghetti or a simple roast chicken dinner. Maybe that will do the trick.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her determination. “Chicken sounds good,” I agreed, rising from my chair to pull her into a hug. “Thanks for being so understanding.”
“No problem,” she said, wrapping her arms around me. “It’s been a roller coaster lately. Adding your mom to the mix is just another twist.”
We stood there for a moment, just holding each other in silence. Breaking away from the embrace, she gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll see you in an hour or so. I won’t bother going home to change.”
“Thank you, Marlow.”
“You’re welcome.” She grinned and walked out the door.
Just as I was getting ready to leave, the phone rang. I answered it and ended up getting stuck talking to a client for half an hour. I had to cut him off, promising to call him tomorrow. I rushed out of the office, checking the time. There was a good chance Marlow would get to my place before I did.
“Hey!” I called out when I saw Marlow juggling several bags in front of my building.
“Hey, what are you doing?” she asked. “I thought you would be home already.”
I took a couple of the bags. “I got hung up at work.”
We stepped into the elevator together.
“Does your mom know I’m coming over?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I didn’t get a chance to call her.”
“Are you sure this is going to be okay?”
“I’m sure it will be,” I said. “It’s my apartment. And she likes you. She wanted me to work things out with you. In fact, she threatened to take away my PlayStation.”
She gave me a funny look. “What?”
I chuckled. “I’m just as baffled as you are, trust me. But she seems to be taking things in stride, so we’ll see.”
As I opened the door, I could hear the television blaring from within.
“Mom? I’m home,” I called out, stepping aside for Marlow to enter.
My mother was seated in the living room, a bowl of popcorn untouched on her lap. She blinked at us, startled and then her face broke into a smile. “Marlow! It’s good to see you!”
She jumped up from the couch and came to greet us. Her eyes lit up when she saw us together. It was a sight I hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Marlow suggested we make dinner together,” I said, looking between the two women I cared about. “I hope that’s okay.”
“More than okay,” my mom replied, her voice warm and welcoming. “I’d love to help.”
Before I knew it, I was banished from the kitchen and found myself sitting at the island, watching them interact. My mom started asking Marlow questions back to back—questions she could have asked during dinner last time but had been too self-involved to broach.
“So, Marlow, what exactly do you do in marketing?” my mom asked, genuinely curious.
Marlow smiled as she chopped vegetables. “I work on branding and strategy for various companies. It’s all about creating a story and image that resonates with people.”
“That sounds fascinating,” my mom said. “And how did you and Spencer meet up again?”
Marlow glanced at me, a playful glint in her eye. “I was visiting my parents, and he was there visiting my brother. Rhett wrapped his car around a tree and Spencer was nice enough to spend a few days with him, helping out.”
My mom nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “He’s always had a good heart, even if he doesn’t always show it.”
They continued chatting as they cooked. I could see the walls between them slowly breaking down. It did my heart good to see them getting along. My mother and I had a difficult relationship—hell, we didn’t even have a relationship. But it seemed like there was a chance we might be able to have one now. And with Marlow helping to facilitate it, I had a feeling things were going to be a lot different. A lot better.
“I’m sorry for how things went down before,” Mom said.
“It’s okay,” Marlow replied.
“No, it’s not,” Mom sighed. “My behavior was abhorrent. I’m so ashamed of myself. I’ve apologized to Spencer, but I owe you an apology as well. That night at dinner, you saved the day. You handled me. I can’t believe I acted that way.”
“It’s really okay,” Marlow insisted. “I’m just glad you and Spencer have a chance to work things out now. The past doesn’t matter.”
“I want to do better. I want to be in my son’s life, and by extension, yours too.”
Marlow was bold and direct, as always. “And your husband?”
My mom sighed, a look of sadness crossing her face. “Maybe he’ll come around. And if he doesn’t, I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”
“You can stay as long as you like, Mom,” I said, meaning every word. “I do have the guest room. I know it’s not The Plaza, but it’s not so bad.”
She groaned. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m just teasing.” I chuckled. “It’s fine.”
“Your home is very nice. It’s comfortable and beautiful. I’m honored to be here.”
After dinner was prepared, we sat down at the dining table. The aroma from the delicious meal filled the air. My mother and Marlow chatted as if they were old friends catching up. I watched them, marveling at how quickly things had turned around. For the first time in a long while, I felt like we were a family. There was laughter, conversation, and a sense of connection that I had longed for. I wished my dad was a part of the reunion, but I was happy my mom was here.
As we ate, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander to the future. The thought of maybe, in a couple of years, having a highchair and a tiny person joining us filled me with a sense of longing I’d never experienced before. Watching Marlow laugh with my mom, I knew in my heart that she would be an incredible mom herself.
“How was your day at work?” Mom asked me, possibly for the first time ever.
“Eventful,” I replied. “I had a few challenging meetings. But overall, it was good.”
Mom nodded, listening attentively. “I’m glad to hear you’re enjoying your job. It’s so important to do something you love.”
Marlow chimed in then. “Spencer’s really great at what he does. He’s always got a new idea up his sleeve.”
“He was always an imaginative child,” Mom said. “I remember how he used to create elaborate stories with his toys, each one with its own personality and backstory. It’s no wonder he’s in the creative field now.”
“I suppose some things never change,” I said, glancing over at Marlow who was smiling knowingly.
It was strange to hear my mother talk about my childhood. I honestly didn’t think she knew I existed half the time. She certainly never let on that she did.
“You’re quite the cook,” Mom said to Marlow.
“My mom taught me everything I know,” Marlow replied.
“I do remember your mother always having the best treats at the bake sales.” Mom nodded.
Marlow beamed at the memory. “I used to love helping her bake for those.”
Mom reflected a moment, looking a little sad. “I wish I’d done more of that with you, Spencer. The past is the past, but I can’t help but feel like I missed out on those moments.”
“We can create new moments together, Mom,” I reassured her. “It’s never too late for that. If you want.”
Even though it felt awkward to put it into words, it was also liberating to say it aloud.
We finished our dinner. I insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up. They had made dinner. The least I could do was handle the dishes. As I stood by the sink, scrubbing away, I could hear their soft laughter and continued conversation in the living room. It was music to my ears.
Never would I have imagined I would be doing dishes in my kitchen with my mom chatting happily in my living room. It was about the last thing I ever expected. Having Marlow here made it easier. I wasn’t sure my mom and I were quite at the point of hanging out together. Marlow was the buffer, and it made me love her even more.