What Have I Done? #2
I look at this woman who has flown across the country because her son made a single sentence sound like he was struggling, and I don’t know what to tell her.
When I stay quiet for too long without answering, she speaks again, with concern.
“Honey, you don’t have to tell me anything. It’s okay. I don’t mean to pry,” she assures me, reaching across the counter to pat my hand gently. “Are you okay?”
I don't know whether it's the voice or her kindness. Or simply the fact that she's somebody's mother. But when I open my mouth to tell her I'm fine, everything else comes out instead.
It comes out in the wrong order.
The hallway outside the ceremony suite. The car.
The red light. The cousin’s name being the same as mine.
The photos at the boutique. The texts from my father.
The fact that I have been sleeping in her son’s t-shirts.
The texts from Preston. My brother, my mother.
Having no plans. The confusion, and the fear of destroying her son’s career…
Caroline doesn't interrupt.
She reaches across the counter once again and lays her hand over mine.
When I finally stop, I'm aware that I'm crying. I wipe my face with the side of my wrist.
“I'm sorry,” I say. “I don't know why I just…”
“Riley.” I look at her still with teary eyes and blurred vision. “None of what you just said sounds like a woman who did anything wrong.”
I look away.
She doesn't press. She gets up, finds a glass in the cabinet on the second try. She fills it with water, sets it down in front of me, and sits back down.
“He’s not worried you’ll destroy his career.” She starts. “He’s helping you, the same way he’s done for me.”
I look at her. She smiles softly, but she has a far-away look in her eyes like she’s deep in memory lane.
“He was a quiet child. The kind of quiet that worries you, at first, but he was very attentive. He watched everything. So, he knows, and he sees it all.”
Her smile blooms into a brighter one. “He used to be very small too, and then one summer, all of the height came.” She laughs, and I find myself laughing too.
“He was the happiest when I finally decided to leave his father. Donovan Blake is just like the man you’ve spoken about.
And Easton detested him. I think Easton has spent the better part of his life trying to figure out which parts of his father were going to show up in him, and weeding them out one by one.
He isn't done. He may never be done. But he's the most committed gardener I have ever met.” She laughs again, and lifts her eyes, until they meet mine.
“He’s been helping with the divorce process and calls me every Sunday.” She turns the water glass in her hands. “Without fail, since the first week I left.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that, Caroline.”
“Shhh… It’s fine, honey. All in the past now, so trust me, you can do it too. In fact, you’re already doing it, and you have the best sidekick by your side.” She winks at me.
This time, I truly laugh. It’s carefree, and for the first time since I woke up today, I feel lighter. It’s like Caroline has empowered me to go conquer the world.
Her bright, toothy smile is the final icing on the cake.
The front door opens. I hear his keys hit the tray.
I see Caroline’s face shift, very slightly, into a soft expression, and her motherly love for her son shines through.
“Mom?”
His voice comes from the entryway. Footsteps follow, slowing as they approach the kitchen, and then he's in the doorway, in his post-practice clothes with his bag still over one shoulder, and a wide grin stretching his lips.
“I smelled you from the door.”
“Hello, baby.” Her smile lights up the room as she rises from the stool and opens her arms.
She's tiny compared to him.
Easton bends down to hug her, wrapping both arms around her without hesitation.
Over her shoulder, his eyes find mine. They’re gleaming. I smile back.
Caroline stays for one more hour.
She tells him a story about her sister’s dog. She doesn't bring up Preston or any part of our conversation, which I’m grateful for.
It's afternoon when the town car arrives, and Easton walks his mother outside.
She's booked a hotel for the rest of her stay. She never says why, but I have a feeling my presence played at least a small role in that decision.
I watch from the window as they say goodbye. She kisses him on the cheek and holds his face in both hands for a second, and says something I don’t hear. He nods. She gets in the car, and it pulls away.
He stands in the driveway for a long beat after she's gone.
Then he comes back inside.
He stops in the doorway of the kitchen. His bag is still on his shoulder. He has not taken his shoes off. He just looks at me.
“My mother likes you.”
“I like her too.”
“See? You’re already collecting people,” he says with a grin.
I roll my eyes and shake my head.
“Give me a moment to shower, and we’ll find an activity to keep you busy for the day, yeah?”
“Okay.”
He stands there for a minute longer, as though he’s contemplating his next move. He eventually steps towards me. I feel the itch to move away. Put distance between us.
He doesn’t touch me, but he’s close. So close that I smell his cologne mixed with the rink.
“Thank you for making her smile.” His lips land on my cheek next, and before I can process it, he’s gone.
And my heart? It freaking skips.
Oh Riley, you’ve got a long way to go, and this man, he’s not going to make it easy.