Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Kane didn’t balk, just kissed my head then took the list from my mom.
“Got it.” He folded the list inside his wallet. “Anything else?”
“I’ll be requesting a ride on that motorcycle when you get back,” she said with a mischievous grin. “I hear you’re the best in the world.”
“Mom…” I began, shaking my head.
“I’d be honored,” Kane said with a mischievous grin of his own.
I didn’t bother to argue; it was clear they’d made up their minds. I just sank back on the couch and flipped through my latest pregnancy book.
“You need anything, Chef?” Kane asked.
“Peace and quiet?” I joked, though I’d had ‘peace and quiet’ for months, and I’d never want to go back to it.
Mom sat on the sofa with the laundry basket. “Oh, honey, that’s gone for about eighteen years or so.” She started folding onesies. They were amazingly tiny.
“She kissed peace and quiet goodbye the second she got on the back of my bike, Judith,” Kane told my mother. “Love you, Chef,” he kissed me on the head. “Love you, Mabel,” he added, patting my stomach.
My head snapped up. “Did you just call her Mabel?”
Kane nodded. “Saw your shortlist on the laptop. I like Mabel.” Then he left, not bothering to wait for my response.
“He just named our baby,” I told my mother, shocked by that and the casual ‘I love you.’ Had he said that since he arrived?
“Mabel’s a lovely name,” my mother replied.
I sighed. It was. I’d wanted something unique, classic and not outrageous.
Mabel it was.
The bike thundered off and it hit me that it was just my mother and I in the house. I was reading and she was folding laundry, but I could feel it in the air. Things that needed to be said. And my mother was not one to procrastinate.
“I’m so glad I’m here, Avery,” she said faintly, gingerly.
I put down my book to give her my full attention, even though my stomach knotted at the prospect of an emotional conversation.
“It broke my heart, pumpkin,” she whispered. “First, seeing you in those magazines, seeing the pain in your eyes, feeling it. Then reading your words in that article, your story. What happened to you…” She sucked in a ragged breath, her composure slipping a little before she grasped a hold of it, squeezing my hand. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. And I’m also sorry that I didn’t give you space to feel that you could come to me. That you didn’t feel safe with me.”
Though I thought I’d conditioned myself to erect barriers between me and my mother, her words struck me right in the chest.
“Mom, it’s not that I don’t feel safe with you. I just didn’t want it to exist. I wanted to bury it down deep and forget about it.”
Mom nodded somberly. “That I understand, my darling girl. And yet I wish that I could’ve been there for you. Not just for that, but for your entire wonderful life. I grieve that I wasn’t. But I’m so very proud of who you’ve become. And now I’ll be here to watch you become a mother. That’s a gift that I’ll treasure.”
“I’m sorry,” I told her, shame washing over me at how completely I’d shut everyone out without proper reasoning. “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”
Losing my father had ruined me. I thought if I didn’t let myself love my mother and sister the way I wanted to, it would hurt less if I ever lost them. A shitty, cowardly reason.
“Don’t you ever apologize for your boundaries, honey,” she replied. “You didn’t know how else to cope. I wish I had been better at scaling the walls you built, but I was waiting, trusting that you’d come back to me. And you have. That’s all that matters.”
I bit my tongue. I didn’t deserve such easy forgiveness, but I’d take it.
“Right.” My mother wiped her eyes. “Let’s get these upstairs and put away. You can direct me.”
Just like that, the emotional moment was gone, and damn, was I glad.
Kane came back with everything on my mother’s list. Tiny clothes were put away.
We were back in the living room, my mother humming contently as she dusted things. Kane was sitting with me, rubbing my feet.
The windows were open—my mother had opened them all. Every single one. She didn’t like air conditioning; she called it ‘artificial air’ and had turned it off in favor of the gentle sea breeze that took the edge of the hot summer afternoon.
I had to admit, the way the curtains blew in the breeze and the smell of the ocean mixed with the flowers in the garden did put ‘artificial air’ to shame.
Since all the windows were open, I heard the crunch of gravel as a car pulled up, then I heard Taylor Swift. I knew it was Taylor Swift not because I was the kind of fan who could identify the song from a few beats. No, because my sister played it so loudly that I could hear every single word from the car stereo inside the house.