Frayed Silk(45)

After I’ve dressed in one of my favorite purple maxi dresses and a lilac cardigan, I brush and straighten my hair before putting on some mascara. Swiping some nude gloss on, I head downstairs to set the table in the dining room for tonight. We won’t eat until Leo gets home, but our mothers are a whirlwind of action and distraction as soon as they enter the house, so I want to be prepared to prevent them from leaving too late with the kids.

Once I’ve done everything I can, I check the clock on the microwave to find that it’s almost five o’clock. They knock on the door not even a second later, opening it up and letting themselves inside.

“Yoo-hoo!” my mom calls.

“Where are my grandbabies?” Taylor sings, her heels clipping on the floor as she trots down the hall. I exit the kitchen just in time for my mom to engulf me in a hug. She swings me side to side then pulls back, her arms gripping mine to study me. “Beautiful dress, baby girl.”

I try for a soft smile, and her brows tug in a fraction. So I move my eyes to Taylor as the kids run to her, wrapping their arms around her.

“Oomph.” She laughs and gets flattened to the wall.

“Quit being such a hog, and you guys, you told me I was your favorite.” My mom points to her chest and forces an outraged look onto her softly lined face. The kids giggle, coming over to give her a hug, too.

“Mommy said I can bring my makeover kit to your place,” Greta informs Taylor, clapping her hands together.

My mom looks at Taylor, who’s trying hard not to show her displeasure. “Oh, Grandma Tay is going to love that.” My mom snickers.

Taylor scowls at her then catches Greta watching so she paints a big smile on her face and nods her head. Her dark blond hair swishes around her shoulders. Not a gray hair in sight. My mom, however, has embraced it. Half of her blond hair is now streaked with it. But it looks rather lovely, and I’ve always hoped that mine will do the same.

I make them a cup of tea and we walk into the living room, taking a seat as they tell us all about their cruise and then their stay in Europe for the past two months.

“Then she lost our luggage …” my mom says to the kids with a serious face.

“Really?” Charlie laughs, and my heart warms at the sound.

“Oh, yes.” She nods. “She’d lose her head if it wasn’t screwed on, but we already knew that, right?” She nudges him gently in the shoulder, causing another round of laughter.

Taylor merely rolls her eyes, sitting back with an arm around Greta and taking a sip from her tea. “You’re hallucinating. You know it was your fault.” She looks down at Greta. “She tried this new fruit over in France.” Taylor shakes her head solemnly. “Hasn’t been the same since.” Her and Greta’s eyes widen comically at one another, their lips pressed thinly together.

“It wasn’t a new fruit. It was a tomato,” my mom interjects.

Taylor points a finger at her. “And there you go, it’s a damn vegetable.”

My mom rolls her eyes. “It’s always been a fruit.”

And here we go again.

I zone out, thinking that it’s probably a good thing that they live separately so they can have a break from one another. Who am I kidding, though. I know they still see each other almost every day or talk on the phone to ask each other random, silly questions. They’re cute, and I’m happy that they have a real friendship, even with their teasing and brutal honesty, but Christ, when they’re together, it’s best to see them in small doses.

I get up to check on our dinner in the oven, pulling it out just as I hear Leo’s car drive into the garage. I almost drop the tray of baked vegetables. I put them down and bend over the counter, taking a few deep breaths. There’s nothing I can do. Not yet. If I’m going to tell him that I know, it’s obviously going to have to wait. I turn around, grabbing some glasses and the water jug out of the fridge. Turning again, I find him leaning in the doorway, watching me. I can’t even bring myself to say hello, for fear of the wrong words spilling out of my mouth instead. So I try for a smile, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace, and get back to the task at hand.

I finish bringing the food out, hearing him say hello to the kids and our mothers in the living room while I wash my hands then dry them on a dishtowel as I walk in to get them.

“Oh, smells divine, dear,” Taylor says, taking a seat.

“Yes, well, she learned everything she knows from me.” My mom grins and takes a seat beside me. Greta sits on her other side, between her and Leo, who’s taking off his suit jacket and draping it over the back of the dining chair.

“Is there gravy?” Charlie asks, sitting between me and Taylor.

“Psh, is there gravy …” my mom mutters, winking at him while nudging the little jug closer for him. Charlie grins, picking it up and almost drowning his meat and vegetables with it.

“That’s enough, buddy,” Leo says, taking a seat and rolling up his sleeves.

Charlie huffs but puts it back on the table for my mom to pick up. She puts some on Greta’s plate then her plate before passing it to me.

I look down the table at Leo, watching him take it from his mom and drizzling a little over his dinner before putting it down to grab the salt and pepper. His eyes flit over everyone at the table before he takes a bite of his food.

“You ladies glad to be home?” he asks after he chews and swallows.