Man, he looks sexy. Just fucked and sexy.
I hastily dress as well, and we leave the hotel room.
“You want to come over for breakfast in the morning?” I ask. “You’ll get better coffee from my mom than at the Sunrise.”
He kisses my cheek lightly. “What time?”
“Around eight, I guess. My mom and dad get up with the birds, but I won’t be ready for public viewing until eight.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
“I can pick you up.”
“That’s okay. I’ll get there.”
I smile. “Okay, Braden. Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For…tonight. For telling me a little about your childhood. For…”
He lifts his eyebrows.
“…everything,” I finish.
“I love you, Skye,” he says. “I’m trying.”
“So am I. Goodnight.”
…
Even though I long to be in Braden’s arms, I sleep better than I have in a long time. I wake up refreshed and feeling alive.
Braden and I will work things out. I feel certain. But he’s not my only issue. I still need to work out my friendship with Tessa. It’s an hour later in Boston, so I can catch her on her way to work. I grab my phone and make the call.
“Hi there! This is Tessa. I’m either on another call or out clubbing! Leave a message and I’ll call you back right away. Or whenever I feel like it!” Then a giggle.
I sigh. I don’t really want to leave a message, but she’ll see my number and know I called. I have to leave something.
“Hey, Tess, it’s me. I’m at my parents’ for a week. Just needed to get away. I miss you. Call me, okay? Let’s work this out.”
Not my most eloquent message, but I think I got my point across. I head to the shower. It’s seven, and Braden will be here in an hour.
After my shower, I amble to the kitchen, where Mom’s working on some pie crust.
“Morning, sweetie.”
“Hey, Mom. I invited Braden for breakfast at eight. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’ll whip up some apple turnovers with some of this crust. Will he like that?”
“He’s kind of a bacon and eggs guy, but I think he’ll love it.”
She laughs. “He can have bacon and eggs, too. We have plenty.”
“I’ll make it.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m happy to do it. Your dad and I really like him, Skye.”
How can they not? He was amazing last night. More friendly than I’ve ever seen him. “I do, too. But…we’re not actually together right now. I hope we can fix it.”
“I’m sure you can. He’s lucky to have you.”
My lips curl into a smile. “You think so?”
“Of course I do.”
“Mom…?”
“Hmm?”
I sigh. My talk with Braden last night brought back memories I’ve never quite gotten over. “What happened between you and Dad those months when I was seven?”
“Skye…” She wipes the flour from her hands onto her apron and turns to look at me.
“Please. I’m an adult now. I can handle it.”
She sighs. “Why do you need to rehash all that?”
“We used the good china last night,” I say absently.
“Yes. So?”
“I remember breaking a plate once, and that day…” I open the refrigerator door and stare into it, not looking for anything in particular. “I’m trying to figure some things out.”
“Close the refrigerator,” Mom says. “You’re wasting electricity.”
I chuckle softly. So like my mother. I close the door and meet her gaze.
“I don’t like to think about those days,” Mom says.
“I know that, and I’m sorry. But it means a lot to me.”
She turns back to her crust, picking up the rolling pin. “Why? Why should it mean anything to you? You were a child.”
“Because it’s important to me.”
Mom cuts large triangles in the rolled out pie crust, seeming intent not to look at me again. “We put this to bed long ago. You haven’t asked me about it in years.”
“Since my freshman year of high school, right after you and Dad had a big fight. I remember.”
She places filling on one of the triangles and seals it shut. “It has nothing to do with you.”
Irritation boils through me. “How can you say that? You’re my parents. When one of you leaves for three months, and the other spends a lot of that time crying, of course it has to do with me.”
“I mean it wasn’t your fault.”
“I never thought it was. But it affected me, and like I said, I’m trying to figure some things out.”
Mom slides her turnovers onto a cookie sheet and opens the oven door. “What kind of things?”
“Like, why I am the way I am.”
“You’re an intelligent and generous young woman, Skye. You know who you are.”
She’s not getting it, and I don’t know how to explain it any better without mentioning my foray into BDSM, and that’s so not happening.
Hey, Mom, I wanted my boyfriend to bind me around the neck and choke me, but he refused.
Yeah. Really not happening.
This is getting nowhere. “Never mind, Mom.”
She closes the oven door and wipes her forehead, leaving a smudge of flour on her left eyebrow. “I thought you let this go years ago.”
“I never let it go. I just stopped asking.”
She turns back to her pie crust and cuts out several more triangles for the turnovers. “The past is the past. It doesn’t do any good to revisit it.”
“That’s not true,” I say. “In therapy—”
She turns abruptly and meet my gaze. “You’re in therapy?”
“No. Not currently, but I haven’t ruled it out.”
Her pallor whitens. I stiffen in my chair. For a moment I wonder if she’s about to faint.
“What’s wrong with therapy, Mom?”