“Sol, wait.” She tugs at my hair, forcing me to look up at her. Then she adjusts her bra back in place and pushes her shirt down, before sliding from under me and sitting up in the center of the bed. I straighten, my fast breathing mirroring hers.
What just happened? One minute, we were really into each other, and the next, she’s scurrying away from me.
Grace must register my confusion because she cups my cheek, easing the blow. “I want this. I want you. I do. So very, very much, Sol. But I need you to be ready. I don’t want you to have doubts about us, okay?”
“I’m ready,” I protest. “Grace, I love you. I want this.”
She gives me the sweetest smile ever. “I know you love me. I really do. But I’m not going to have sex with you, Sol. Not after what I just told you.”
I nod in understanding, realizing that she’s right. I really want to bury myself inside her now more than ever. I want to erase the memory of her and Levi completely and make sure the only thing on her mind is me. Me.
Eventually, I say, “I love kissing you. And God knows everything about you drives me crazy. When I finally make love to you, I’ll give myself to you with everything that I am. I’ll show you that you’re mine and no one else’s.”
She blinks a few times, then takes a deep breath. She cranes her neck to kiss my mouth.
Slipping my arm under her shoulder, I pull her to me. She fits perfectly in my arms. Like when God was creating her, he had me in mind.
“So, that’s Eddie Menuek, huh?” I ask, my gaze moving to the laptop screen. I chuckle when I remember that time at the hospital I woke up to find her in the room.
She glances over her shoulder and laughs. “Yep. He’s about to walk into Chandler’s room.”
We settle down to watch the sitcom. I couldn’t have envisioned a better way to spend the evening with Grace.
We spend the next two days hanging out at her favorite waffle place, snuggling, and catching up and talking about everything.
Two days later, Grace drives me to the train station. After a soul-stealing kiss, we say goodbye, and I get on the train, feeling as if I’m leaving my heart in Connecticut. I can’t wait to see her in a week.
One week later
I wake up on Tuesday morning, ready for my drive to Boston to pick up my mother’s wedding gown. It’s been three days since spring break began. Less than three weeks until Mom’s wedding. We only have five days before the break comes to an end. Sol and I plan to stay a few days in Boston before heading back to Portland. He insisted on coming with me. Not that I protested at all. If he hadn’t brought up coming with me first, I would have asked anyway. He’ll be moving into his new apartment when we come back.
Even though I just saw him a week ago at school, I still missed him like crazy after he left. We’re going to stay at his childhood home, which is great because it will save us money on a hotel. Plus, I know the place still holds a lot of sentimental value to Sol, and he likes staying there whenever he’s in town.
After grabbing my overnight bag from my bed, I head to the kitchen. Mom and Christopher are already sitting at the breakfast table. She’s on her laptop, brows bunched up in concentration while mumbling under her breath. The closer the wedding, the more anxious Mom seems.
Christopher reaches for my mother’s hand, the one gripping the mouse like it’s her lifeline, and tugs it to his lips. “Time to put away the laptop and have breakfast, darling.”
Mom blinks rapidly as if she’s coming out of a fog. “I just need to finish sending this email—”
“You said that twenty minutes ago. Must be a very long email,” he teases with a warm smile. “Come on.” He gives her hand another tug. Mom shuts the laptop and stands, allowing him to guide her to his lap.
“Sorry, baby,” she whispers, pressing a lingering kiss on his mouth. “I’ll make it up to you later,” she says with a wink.
“Just make sure you’re done making it up to him by the time I get back home,” I say, brows raised.
She chuckles. “You’re never going to forget that night, huh?”
“Nope. I have to run.” I turn to go when she calls out my name.
“I’m really glad things are going well between you and Sol. Just be careful, okay?”
“Mom—”
She waves me off with a hand. “All I’m saying is that if you’re going to, you know”—her gaze darts to Chris, then back at me—”be together, just take precautions.”
I slap a hand over my eyes, my face heating with embarrassment. “Gee, Mom. Way to embarrass me in front of my soon-to-be stepdad. I love Christopher, but there are some things I’d like to keep private.”
“Sorry,” she says. She untangles herself out of Christopher’s lap and walks over to me.
“I’m, um, I’ll just be over there doing . . . yeah,” Christopher says, scratching the back of his head.
Mom and I watch him head down the hall. The sound of a door closing moments later fills the silence.
I face my mom again. “I know what you’re going to say, and I’m good. I promise. You have nothing to worry about.” I’ve been on birth control for years now. Mom knows this.
“I know, sweetheart. I trust you.” She reaches a hand to sweep back the wayward curls that keep escaping from my ponytail. “What time do you think you’ll be back?”
“Umm, I’m not sure. We’re just going to play it by ear. I’ll call you when we’re on the road.”
I grab an apple and a banana from the fruit bowl on the kitchen table, toss them inside the oversized purse on the seat, then hitch the strap over my shoulder.
“Okay, just don’t forget the bridal shop closes at six in the evening.”
“I know, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ve got you. My number one priority is bringing home that dress.”
She smiles, and for the first time in a while, the creases around her eyes and on her forehead seem to relax.
I glance at the clock on the wall in the living room. “Shoot, I have to go. I don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”
I’m picking up Sol, and he’s going to need help with his bag and crutches getting into the car.
“Okay, sweetheart.” She pulls me into her arms, hugging me tight, then kisses my cheek. I head to the door and grab my keys from the bowl. Behind me, my mom yells, “Love you. Remember, I’m not ready to be a grandmother!”
I glance over my shoulder, mortified. “Mom! Why don’t you say it a little louder? I don’t think they heard you all the way in Japan.”
The sound of her amused laughter follows me as I walk out the door.
Moms. Can’t live with them, don’t ever want to live without them.
Inside the car, I pull out my phone from my purse and text Sol to let him know I’ll be there in a few minutes, then toss the bag in the back seat. I stop to grab two Americanos at Starbucks before driving to the rectory.
By the time I pull into the parking lot at St. Peter’s Church, Sol is waiting. He makes his way to the car using one crutch. He and his physical therapist have been working on transitioning from using two crutches to one for a few days now.