Chapter 48
Summer steeled herself as she stuck her key in the lock of Mama’s front door, her other hand clutching the prescription she’d stopped at the pharmacy to pick up.
If anything said she wasn’t on vacation anymore, it was coming here.
At least she only had a few minutes before she had to be at work. And maybe spending time with Pastor Calvano over the past few days had mellowed Mama out a bit.
Summer snorted to herself. Her father-in-law was a wonderful pastor—but he wasn’t a miracle worker.
She pushed the door open, calling, “It’s me. I brought your pills.”
“About time.” The grumble came from Mama’s recliner. “I thought you said you were only going to be gone a couple of days.”
“Sorry, Mama. Benjamin surprised us with a trip to visit his sister in Wisconsin.”
Mama knew this, of course. Summer had texted her, and she was sure Pastor Calvano had mentioned it as well.
“Maybe you should have told him you have responsibilities here.”
“He knows that, Mama. And so do I.” Summer kept her tone even. “But he thought, after everything we’ve been through . . .” She tried to ignore the hurt that Mama hadn’t even asked how their doctor appointments went. She hadn’t expected her to.
“I hope you had fun,” Mama’s voice dripped sarcasm. “Gallivanting all over while I was here by myself.”
“You weren’t by yourself.” Summer picked up a stack of dirty dishes from Mama’s TV tray. “Pastor Calvano came over.” She started toward the kitchen, but then, feeling a little sassy, threw over her shoulder, “And yes, we did have fun.”
She ducked into the kitchen before Mama could see the way her face heated at the memory. She’d spent the whole drive home yesterday and all night last night fighting the fear that it had all been a mistake, that Benjamin was going to regret that they couldn’t get an annulment now, and she wasn’t about to let Mama add fuel to her doubts.
She moved to the sink, where a pile of clean dishes was neatly stacked in the drying rack—she’d have to thank Pastor Calvano for that—and made quick work of the dirty ones in her hands. She knew Ruth wouldn’t be upset if she was late for work—her boss had texted yesterday to say she should take a couple more days off if she needed them—but she really couldn’t afford more time off. She was barely contributing to the family income the way it was.
The word family sent a throb of joy through her as she headed back to the living room. Her own family—that was something she’d thought she’d never have.
Not that any of it is real, a little voice tried to argue, but Summer pushed it away. She was done listening to that voice.
“I need more toilet paper,” Mama called as Summer reached the front door.
Summer paused, gritting her teeth. “You should have texted me. I would have picked it up while I was at the pharmacy.”
Mama didn’t say anything, and Summer sighed. “I’ll stop and get some after I pick Max up from school.” She pulled the door open but jumped back at the sight of a man on the doorstep, his hand poised to ring the doorbell.
“Sorry.” Summer pressed a hand to her heart. “You startled . . .” She trickled off as she read the logo on the man’s shirt: Liquor Lounge. Her eyes tracked to the paper bag he held.
“What’s in there?” she demanded.
The man opened the bag. “One bottle of whiskey. One vodka. I’ve got your beer in the van yet. I just need you to sign and—”
“Take it back.” Summer barely recognized her own voice. It was like someone bold and icy had taken control of her vocal cords.
“Excuse me?” The man glanced at the phone in his hand. “This is 302 Walker, right?”
“I said, ‘Take it back.’” Summer started to close the door, but something got in the way. She looked over in surprise to find Mama holding onto it.
“I’ll sign.” Mama stepped past Summer and took the man’s phone, scribbling something illegible on the screen. The man took the phone back and handed Mama the bag, shooting Summer an odd look.
“I’ll be right back with your beer.” He fled to his van, and Summer whirled on Mama.
“Oh, get down off your high horse.” Mama scowled.
Summer could only stare at her, speechless.
The man returned with a box of beer that Mama could barely lift, but Summer didn’t offer to help her. It wasn’t until Mama had taken the beer to the kitchen and returned with a bottle in her hand that Summer found her voice.
“Why?” It was the only word she could manage.
Mama lifted the bottle with a smirk. “Liquid happiness.”
“That’s killing you.”
Mama shrugged. “Not like there’s any reason to prolong this miserable life.”
“Whose fault is it if you’re miserable, anyway?” Summer knew the moment she said it that she should have held her tongue, but the words had burned their way right out of her.
Mama looked up, her eyes filled with malice. “I had plans, you know. Big plans. And then you and your brother came along, and your daddy left, and who had to give up all of their plans? Not him. Not you or TJ. Me.”
Summer’s throat burned and her eyes stung, but she stood her ground. “You know what, Mama? I feel sorry for you.”
Mama snorted. “You think you’re so much better? You think your life is going to be so different? With your husband.” She made the word a mockery. “Mark my words, someday you’re going to be sitting in your chair, looking for your whiskey, and asking yourself what ever happened to your dreams.”
Summer opened the door with a shaking hand. “You can order booze, Mama? Then order your own toilet paper too.” She stepped outside, slamming the door behind her and angrily swiping away the tears that had found their way onto her cheeks. Mama didn’t deserve them.