Jay hunkered down, letting Adrian scramble off his back before he took a seat on a tiny red chair at the edge of the reading circle. “What story are we reading today?”
His mother grinned. “The Cat in the Hat.”
Jay bit back a groan. He had never enjoyed the nightmarish story of an impulse-driven cat who barged into a home determined to have fun without thinking of the consequences of his actions. The only sensible creature in the story was the fish, the voice of reason and order who stayed safely in his bowl and insisted that the house be tidied before the mother got back home.
After story time, Jay watched spaceship battles and car races. He held dolls for their “mommies,” fixed broken airplanes, and lent his body to the advancement of children’s climbing skills. As always, he was a passive participant, rarely leaving his little red chair, but the children never seemed to mind.
Many sticky kisses and good-byes later, he helped his mother and the rest of the staff tidy away the toys.
“I’ve invited a friend to join us for dinner tonight.” His mother wiped down the kitchen counter. “His name is Rick Sanchez. I met him at a bar after my book club meeting. We’ve been out a few times and I thought it might be nice for you to meet him.”
The skin on the back of Jay’s neck prickled in warning. His mother sprung these surprise boyfriends on him only if she knew Jay wouldn’t approve. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Oh, darling. You worry too much.” She left him to finish up and returned shortly after in a soft black sweater, her hair freshly combed and her lips glistening red.
Jay followed her out the door. “Just tell me he’s not a criminal.”
“He’s a biker.” She shrugged on a leather jacket he hadn’t seen before and turned to show him the back. “His club is called the Diablos . . .”
Jay’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the Diablos patch on the back. “Jesus, Mom! They’re a motorcycle club.”
With a chuckle, she zipped up her jacket. “They aren’t an outlaw club, if that’s what you’re thinking. They’re just regular guys who own Harleys and get together for weekend rides.”
“You’re not . . .” Jay sucked in a sharp breath, bracing himself on the nearest wall. “Going to ride on his bike?”
Jay had just completed his term of service when his mother was first diagnosed with breast cancer. He had returned home to look after her, determined to ensure she had the best possible care. Until this moment, he’d thought he was over the fear of losing her. But the frantic pounding of his heart said he was wrong.
“I’ve been on his bike several times already. He can’t stand being in a ‘cage.’ That’s what he calls a car.”
It took several deep breaths before Jay could speak again. “What happened to that nice accountant who drove a Honda Civic and bowled on Tuesdays?”
His mother shrugged. “He didn’t make me feel alive.”
“I want you to feel alive and be safe,” Jay grumbled. “How am I going to sleep at night if you’re riding through the streets on the back of a biker’s motorcycle?”
“You don’t need to look after me, Jay.” Her face softened. “Not anymore.”
“It’s who I am.” He had completed multiple combat deployments in Iraq and Afghanistan as a decorated combat search-and-rescue pilot and tactical officer and then channeled that desire to serve and protect into providing security nationwide. He couldn’t just turn it off, especially when it came to the only person he loved.
“It’s you I’m worried about.” She leaned against the railing that kept the children from running out into the parking lot. “It’s Friday night. You should be out on a date, or going to clubs or bars with your friends, not having dinner with your mother. You need to find someone to share your life. What if something happens to me?”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” he said abruptly. “You got your five-year all clear.” His pulse kicked up a notch. “Or are you trying to tell me something?”
“I just need to know you won’t be alone,” she said softly. “I got through my treatment because I kept thinking, who is going to love my boy if I’m gone?”
“Christ, Mom.” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Don’t do this to me five minutes before I have to meet your biker boyfriend.”
“I want you to promise me you’ll try to find a partner,” she said. “Someone who loves you for who you are. Someone who will be there for you. Someone you can love in return.” She held up her hand when he opened his mouth to protest. “I know what you’re going to say. You’re busy with work. It isn’t the right time. But I’ve found something with Rick I didn’t even know was missing, and I want that for you, too. Promise me you’ll be open to the idea, that you’ll make an effort to find someone. No more Friday nights with your mom.”
“What about Sunday dinner?” They’d always had Sunday dinner together. Even when she’d been too sick to eat, they’d spent the evening drinking sports drinks and watching old movies on TV.
“We’ll still have dinner on Sundays. That’s our time. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Even without the worried niggle at the back of his mind, Jay couldn’t deny his mother anything, and she knew it. “Fine.” He sighed. “I promise.”
The rumble of an engine echoed through the small parking lot, and a heavyset biker drove up to them on a massive Harley-Davidson touring bike complete with sixteen-inch ape-hanger handlebars.
“Seriously?” His stomach knotted with tension. “You’re going to ride on that?”
“Stop scowling,” his mother said. “I like Rick so I expect you to be polite. One day you’ll meet someone who makes your heart sing and you’ll realize that life isn’t meant to be lived alone.”
Annoyed at the concession he’d been forced to give, he folded his arms across his chest. “I like to be alone.”
“He has a daughter . . .”
“Mom . . .” Thirty-four years old, CEO of his own company, and his mother was still trying to set him up. “I’m busy building something great. The last thing I’m interested in right now is a relationship, and especially not with the daughter of a man who can’t even sit in a car.”
His mother didn’t understand that being at the top meant he could finally breathe. It meant that when the time finally came to have a family, his children would never have to wonder where their next meal would come from or where they would be sleeping at night. It meant that if someone got sick, he could pay for the best medical care. It meant security, and that was all he’d ever wanted.