Just Let Me Love You (Judge Me Not #3)(2)

My cell is on the nightstand. Usually I handle things by myself, or with Chase, but maybe if I talk with someone else, I’ll find the direction I seek.

Heck, it’s worth a try.

My first impulse is to call Father Maridale, since he’s generally a help when I feel uncertain, but I hesitate. Tonight, I feel speaking with a woman might be more helpful to me.

Decided and determined, I reach out and grab my cell from the nightstand. But then I just stare blankly at it. Who can I call—Missy? No, she’s dealing with her own things. Sadly, I don’t really have any other female friends.

To be honest, I know who I’d like to speak with.

But I am hesitant to call her.

“Oh, what the hell,” I say out loud, resolving to do the one thing I never would have imagined myself doing even just a month ago.

I call my mother.

In some inexplicable, weird way it feels right, like my mother and I have progressed to this point, and it’s my turn to reach out. As Father Maridale counseled, I am giving her an opportunity to be here for me. My mother has initiated all contact up to this point; she always calls me. She’s been great so far, too; keeping up with me, warning me about Doug. But this will mark the first time I’ve taken it upon myself to get in touch with her.

I breathe in deeply. Let’s see how this goes…

To my delight, when I reach her, my mom sounds genuinely pleased to hear from me. That kind of response touches me deep inside. This is the connection I’ve longed for ever since Mom turned away. Before then, even. I always wanted a real relationship with my mother. After all, she is my flesh and blood and there’s a bond there that transcends hurt feelings and past wrongs, no matter how deeply they run.

We talk, just small talk. I keep the conversation light, updating her on what we’ve been doing, like the fair Chase and I took Will and Jared to, our road trip to Pittsburgh, movies we’ve seen, that sort of thing.

At one point, Mom asks me how work is going, and I reply, “Actually, I’m pretty much done with the secretary gig. That was just for the summer.”

“School doesn’t start till September, though,” she remarks.

“That’s true,” I reply, “but the regular secretary, Connie, returns on Monday from her trip. She and her husband were on an extended cruise.”

“Oh, so you have the next three weeks off?”

“Yeah,” I confirm. “Father Maridale told me I can still come in and help Connie if I get bored, but there’s really no need. I’m sure I’ll find plenty of things to do around here.”

There’s a smile in Mom’s voice as she states, “Look on the bright side, honey. Think of how much time you and Chase can spend together these next few weeks. You have the rest of August to do things before you go back to teaching. These dog days of summer are so nice for young couples; lots of end-of-summer events and activities to enjoy.”

“Um…”

Mom, misunderstanding my non-reply, says, “Oh, what am I going on about? I’m sure Chase still has to work the rest of the month. Just never mind me, honey.”

Chase would still be working through August, but when Father Maridale was told of the latest troubles with Will, he gave Chase the rest of the month off.

Damn. Mom’s words resonate, and I think of how I’d love to be planning fun, end-of-summer activities for Chase and me to partake in. But who knows how much of the next few weeks we’ll even end up spending together. Chase might be stuck in Vegas for a while.

When I don’t immediately respond to my mom, she says, as only moms can do, “Kay, what’s wrong?”

I need to talk to someone and she really is trying, so I confess to her that Chase is gone. “He’s on his way to the airport right now. Chase is flying out to Las Vegas early tomorrow morning to, uh, help his brother. I don’t know how long he’ll be gone.”

Mom sighs, then says with much kindness, “I’m sorry, Kay.”

That prompts me to spill everything that has really been happening. Well, almost everything. I leave out my argument with Chase, and I don’t dare mention that Will purchased a gun. I do, however, share with my mother that a misguided Will might run into trouble while trying to protect his girlfriend.

My mom is quiet for a few beats, like maybe she’s assessing. Sure enough, she says softly, “You want to go with Chase, don’t you?”

“I do,” I admit. Why lie?

“So, why aren’t you with him now?” she gently prods.

I stifle a sniffle. “He wants to do this alone, Mom. He thinks I’ll get caught up in what he terms a dangerous situation.” I sigh. “This thing with Will, it’s, uh, volatile. Besides, Chase told me he needs to do this on his own.”

Even though my responses are vague, I expect my mother to do what she’s always done—start up with her judgments.

But she does nothing of the sort. Instead of blurting out something cutting or biting, she says, “Honey, don’t ever doubt yourself. And don’t let Chase doubt you, either. It sounds to me like he might need you with him more than he realizes.”

I consider her words and mumble a “maybe.”

“Kay,” she continues, “sometimes men underestimate what we, as women, can handle. Chase wants to protect you, sure, and that’s noble, but maybe he needs you to show him what you’re made of. Show him the strong woman I know you are, honey. Show him how your strength can actually strengthen him.”