Chapter 39
Finally, Graham let out the breath he’d been unconsciously holding in. So much for his masquerade with Coco. Clearly, the jig was up.
“Mom, you know.”
She cocked her head, feigning innocence. “Know? Know what?”
Graham stifled a deep groan. Oh, god, she was going to make this difficult, wasn’t she? “About me.”
“Whatever could you mean, dear? Quit talking in riddles.” She busied herself with more cookie-plating.
Graham laid a hand on his mother, stilling her. “Mom, I’d say we’re both guilty of talking in riddles.” He sucked in a breath. “But not anymore.”
Earnest, Carol met eyes with her son. It was as if the entire world had gone still.
“Mom,” Graham said, voice so fragile he hardly even recognized it, “you’re right about Brent making me happy. And after these last few days with him, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy. So happy, in fact, you might even say I’m…gay.”
It wasn’t until a moment later that he realized he’d been holding his breath again.
The smile from his mother reached every last corner of her face. She wrapped her son in a full mama bear hug.
“Oh, Graham. I love you.”
And just like that, the dam broke loose. Waterworks that could have made even old Noah head for the hills began streaming down Graham’s cheeks.
Even with his mother squeezing the living daylights out of him, he couldn’t help but sense a freedom in his bones like nothing he’d ever known. Apparently, this was what it felt like when a weight got lifted that you hadn’t even known you’d been carrying.
“I love you too, Mom.”
He let himself melt into the safety of his mother’s embrace. Good lord, had he become a basket case. Here he was, a full-grown adult—blubbering like an idiot held tight in his mother’s arms.
Meanwhile on the inside, he felt just like a scared teenager again. The same scared teenager, he now realized, who’d in fact been inside him all along.
He’d just never felt safe enough to come out from hiding.
Graham wiped away a tear from his cheek. “You knew this whole time, didn’t you?”
Lovingly, Carol brushed a tear off her son’s other cheek. “I had my suspicions. But I never wanted to force it until you were ready.”
Graham returned a silent nod through his tears.
Gently, Carol raised her son’s chin. “I know it’s none of my business, Graham, but seeing you and Brent together these last few days, it’s clear you two have something special. Why are you shutting him out, dear?”
At this, Graham worked to draw himself together. “It’s…just not that simple, Mom.”
Carol narrowed her eyes, searching. “What do you mean, not that simple?”
An exasperated sigh followed from Graham. It was time to face the music. “I think you’d better sit down for this.”
* * *
His story complete, Graham searched his mother’s face for a response. Her expression had gone featureless.
He felt his heart lurch. Oh, no. He’d fried his mother’s motherboard.
Finally, Carol managed to speak. “Gosh, a real Hollywood celebrity staying here in this very house.” She touched her forehead, reeling. “I knew I should have brought out the good china.”
Graham rolled his eyes, incredulous. “That’s your takeaway?”
“Well, it isn’t every day we get a VIP in Mistletoe Grove,” she countered.
He shook his head with a smirk. “No one can know who she is, OK? I told you, we’re here to keep a low profile. One more tabloid scandal, and both of us are cooked.”
Skeptical, Carol crossed her arms. “Oh, I don’t believe for a second that sweet angel Coco could get you into trouble.”
He let out a scoff. “Clearly, you don’t know Coco, then.”
Carol waved her hand, dismissive. “Oh, all right. But I still don’t see why that means you can’t make something work with Brent. Coco is your fake girlfriend.”
“And my very real client, Mom. My client who—provided this all goes according to plan—could be my ticket to the big leagues.”
A melancholy shadow crossed Carol’s face. “Yes, but is a job really worth your happiness, son? You don’t even know if the offer’s official. I know how these big-city businesspeople operate, Graham. And if you don’t have it in writing, then—”
“Heel, Cujo,” Graham soothed. “I happen to know a thing or two about business myself. And sure, this job might be a gamble, but I’m not afraid of taking a chance.”
“Except when it comes to taking a chance on love, huh?”
The comment hit him like a gut punch. Ouch.
Resetting, he shook his head clear. “Come on, Mom. You and I both know what this is really about. You’ve been begging me to move back home for years. And now that you see the perfect leverage to convince me, you’re trying to milk it for all it’s worth.”
Not that he had anything against Brent and…milking.
The lurid mental image taking shape in his mind’s eye then disappeared at the sound of his mother’s voice once more.
“I mean, really,” Carol went on. “What does LA have that you can’t get here in Mistletoe Grove?”
He let loose a chortle. “My job, for starters. Not much need for a celebrity publicist in a town without celebrities, huh?”
The remark went uncontested.
“And besides,” he continued, “you said it yourself. Mistletoe Grove is on its way out. How much longer do you really think this town can last without any holiday tourists?”
The point seemed to hit home with Carol. She cast a vacant gaze out the window. “I just don’t understand why no one wants an old-fashioned Christmas anymore.”
Graham felt a tinge of sadness pull at his heart then. “Because, Mom, none of it’s real. Holiday cheer, Christmas magic—it’s all just for show. Honestly, I think people have had enough.”
Carol looked like she’d just taken an arrow to the chest. “Christmas sure felt real to me when you were around.”
The jab left Graham speechless. Double ouch.
“Maybe I’m just an old fool for holding out hope,” his mother continued, “but I can’t help it, Graham. It’s like something inside me’s telling me not to give up just yet—like ol’ Mistletoe Grove has still got a fighting chance.”
Graham heard Coco’s earlier words echo inside his head: Sometimes, it can seem like a mistake when we listen to how we feel, but once we see the full picture, we realize our heart was right all along.
Again, his mother’s voice pulled him back to the present.
“Goodness, listen to me. I sound like I belong in the nuthouse.” She reached out to hold Graham’s hand.
“I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life, son.
I only want what’s best for you. If this job in LA is really that important, you’ll always have my support.
I only ask that you choose carefully. The way you and Brent look at each other isn’t something I’ve seen in some time, Graham.
Love doesn’t come calling on a schedule, you know.
Even when it calls at a bad time, son, if you ever want to connect, you have to be willing to answer. ”
Almost as if on cue, the ringing of Graham’s cellphone pierced the air.
He fished the device from his pocket. “Sorry, Mom. I’ve got to take this. Work.”
Accepting, she paid Graham a nod. “You do what you have to do, dear.”
Bracing himself, Graham stepped outside. If only it could be that easy.