“Don’t be. He’s gone, and you’re free.” His words might sound harsh to most folks, but they hadn’t lived in the hell hole he had. He hugged his mother fiercely, kissed the top of her head, and pulled away. “I’ve got to run. You want to come with Benji and me to the art show downtown?”
Her eyes slid from his, and she cleared her throat. “That sounds lovely, but I can’t. I’m heading out of town for a couple of days.”
Surprised, he frowned. “Yeah? Everything okay?”
“Oh, yes.” She smiled brightly. “I had planned this trip to go antiquing with Maude Adams up north. I’m looking for a few new pieces to work on and refinish, and she was more than happy to come along.”
She was acting weird, speaking too fast, color too high, but Boone wasn’t about to poke into his mother’s secrets. At least not yet. “Have a good time.” He turned to his son. “Okay, bud, you ready to go?”
“Can we keep her, Daddy?”
He looked down at Mabel, but it wasn’t the dog he saw. Instead, it was luminous eyes, creamy skin, and a smile that made his heart speed up. He blinked away the image. Was he really headed down that path?
“Can we?” Benji asked again, impatient for an answer.
“She’s not mine. She belongs to Poppy.”
“Oh.” Clearly disappointed, Benji gave Mabel a hug, and Boone followed them outside. As he walked to his car, he realized something. While his kid might have a thing for Mabel, what Boone felt for the dog’s owner was a hell of a lot more than a thing. He was treading into new territory here.
And, surprisingly for Boone Avery, he was okay with that.
Chapter Eighteen
Poppy spent the morning helping various vendors set up their booths. She ran for coffee and water and did whatever she could to make things run smoothly. Clarence Fitzsimmons needed a tea with milk? She was there for him. Dorothy Ayers’s display table only had three working legs? Poppy found her another one. Georgiana Smith couldn’t locate her boxes of hand-painted frames? Poppy searched until she did. Through all of it, she was very aware of the questioning looks from her mother, who was at the park as well. The woman was like a bloodhound, and she’d obviously caught scent of something.
Because of that, Poppy tried her best to keep away from Serena Fairbanks. She wasn’t ready to share yet, especially with a woman who made a habit of poking her nose where it wasn’t wanted. Besides, not only was her mother a control freak, she’d never liked Boone and had made no effort to hide it. What point was there in discussing him now, when Poppy wasn’t even sure what it was she and Boone were doing?
“What’s going on with you?”
Poppy grimaced and swore to herself. God, she’d been so close to getting through this setup without a conversation. Because conversations with her mother generally led to confrontations and arguments.
Poppy hauled another box off the truck before turning to find her mother right behind her, waiting to take it. Dressed in pink-and-purple overalls and an oversized straw hat with a nest of fake daisies along the rim, her mother appeared as eccentric as the town believed her to be.
“Nothing’s going on with me,” Poppy replied, tearing into the box. “Why would you think there is?” As soon as the words fell from her lips, she winced inwardly. Why in hell had she just opened herself up to more conversation?
Her mother started on the pottery items, placing them on the table as Poppy handed them to her. This was the last table to be set up, filled with items made by residents of the local senior center where her mother volunteered twice a week.
“You look different,” Serena Fairbanks said lightly. But Poppy wasn’t fooled. Her mother was fishing and wouldn’t stop until she caught what it was she was after.
“Pretty sure I don’t,” she answered.
“You do. Like you’ve got a secret you’re not willing to share.”
They were in it now. Poppy decided the best way to deal with her was to be honest. “Well, that’s the thing about secrets, isn’t it, Mom? They’re meant to stay secret.”
“Huh,” was all Serena said. She busied herself arranging the pottery items, but Poppy knew this wasn’t over. Her mother would bide her time and pick the perfect moment to get the information. Growing up, it had been a point of conflict between the two of them and had led to many awful fights. How many times had Poppy run out the door crying and upset because of her mother and her insatiable need to control?
She hadn’t always been like that. But after her father left, her mom hadn’t been in a good place. It was understandable. At the time, his leaving had been the number one piece of gossip in town. Charlie Fairbanks and the coffee girl who stole his heart. Her mother had zeroed in on Poppy, nearly suffocating her daughter with a need to know everything. She inserted herself into every corner of Poppy’s life and had been the main reason for Poppy leaving town the day after graduation.
But now, as a grown-up, Poppy saw it for what it was. Her mom had never gotten over being left for a much younger woman, and instead of moving on and trying to find another slice of happiness, she wallowed in her gloom and negativity, and covered it up with volunteering on committees and fostering animals. But all that darkness festered and grew until she’d pretty much alienated everyone in her life with her snarky tongue and unwanted opinions.
Sometimes Poppy thought her mother liked the fact Poppy hadn’t managed to find her own happily ever after. That she’d never had a healthy relationship. That she was as alone as Serena.
And then Poppy felt guilty for thinking it, because what kind of mother would that make Serena Fairbanks?
“I hear Boone Avery is back in town.”
Well, shit, Poppy thought. There was no avoiding it now. “He’s been back awhile, Mom.”
“Has he?”
She peered over the box at her mother and sighed inwardly. It seemed as if they were getting into it whether Poppy wanted to or not. She glanced around, grateful no one was within earshot.
“Do you have something you want to say?”
Serena set down the last piece of pottery and tossed the empty box onto the ground beside the other ones.
“I ran into Mrs. Crabtree this morning at the market. She was buying fresh oranges.”
Crabtree? Poppy was busted and knew it, but that didn’t mean she had to make things easy for her mother.
“That’s nice.”
Serena tucked a piece of gray hair behind her ears. “I was buying peaches for canning.”
Poppy did an internal eye roll and attempted a smile, but then realized she didn’t have time for games.
“Mom, we both know you don’t want to discuss Mrs. Crabtree’s oranges or your peaches or canning. So just say whatever it is you want to say. I’ve got a lot to do.”
Serena squared her shoulders, the look on her face not exactly encouraging. “Are you starting up with the man who broke your heart when you were a child?”
“I wasn’t a child. You make it sound like I didn’t know what I was doing back then.”
“You didn’t, and your broken heart was proof of that.”
“My heart, broken or otherwise, isn’t any of your business.” Anger flared inside Poppy, and she made no effort to hide it. “Why do you care so much? And don’t say it comes from a place of love, because the kind of caring you show me isn’t the kind that makes me feel fuzzy and warm.”