Well Played (Well Met #2)(79)

“Talk about what?” By then I had my regular smile back on my face, but for once my false cheer wasn’t fooling her. I probably wasn’t fooling anyone anymore.

“Is it that boy?” She unclipped her seatbelt, and I had to smile at the thought of Daniel as “that boy.” Did Mom not realize I was pushing thirty, and he was past it? Maybe in her eyes I would always be seventeen. “Is he . . . Was he . . .” Her voice trailed off. Mom didn’t have the language to ask if he’d been nothing more than a summer fling.

“He was just here for Faire, Mom.” My car chirped as I engaged the lock, and I followed her into the house. I was too tired to deal with the steps leading up to my apartment.

“Hmm.” Her voice was noncommittal as she filled up the electric kettle. “He was over here an awful lot the past couple weeks for someone who was just here for Faire. Not that I’m judging,” she hastened to add. “Quite the opposite. It’s about time you had someone over. I was about to give you a vibrator for your birthday.”

“Mom!” A shocked, slightly scandalized laugh spilled out of me. Maybe I wasn’t seventeen in her eyes after all. I got down two mugs and handed them to her. “I’ll have you know I’m all stocked up in that department,” I said as primly as I could. “Batteries make a great stocking stuffer, though.”

Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She added tea bags to the mugs before pouring in the hot water. “Here.” She pushed one mug toward me. “Chamomile. It’ll help you relax.”

“I’m relaxed,” I said, a little too petulantly. Okay, maybe she had a point. I took the mug and stared into it.

“You’re sure you’re all right, then?” Mom asked while our tea steeped. “This really was a, uh, short-term thing?”

I nodded, but then the words burst out before I could stop them. “He wanted me to go with him, Mom.” I wanted to clap a hand to my mouth, take the words back. What was the use of saying them now? That decision had already been made.

“Oh.” She sat down at the kitchen table, her own mug of tea in front of her. “You mean out on the road with him? Doing what he does?” Her eyes narrowed. “What does he do, anyway?”

“His cousins are a musical act. He manages them. And yes.” I sighed into my own tea. “He asked me to go out on the road with him.”

She nodded sagely. “And you don’t want to.”

“No, I don’t . . .” But that was a lie. “I mean, I can’t.” I sighed and took a cautious sip: the tea was still really hot. “It was for the best that we broke up. Really. His life is out there, you know?” I ran the tip of my finger around the lip of the mug. “And mine is here. He wouldn’t want to settle down here in Willow Creek.” Neither did I. Not really. But here we were, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to say that to my mother.

“Well, neither do you.”

“What?” My eyes flew to hers. Had I said that out loud? Had she read my mind?

“You heard me.” She blew across her mug to cool the tea. “Listen. I know why you stayed, the first time. And believe me, I appreciate that you did. Your father means well, but it would have been hell without you, that first year or so when things were so bad.” She eyed me over her mug as she took a sip. “But you have to know, honey, how much I hated it. You gave up a great opportunity—a career, a life—to stay home in this small town and watch me go to doctor’s appointments.”

I waved it off. “It’s fine, Mom.”

“No, it isn’t.” She set her mug down with a thud, and I sat back in my chair. I’d never seen her look so determined. So angry. So . . . full of regret. “We asked you to stay, but it wasn’t supposed to be forever.” She sighed as she looked me over, and I fidgeted a little in my chair. “You were such a happy child.”

“I’m still happy, Mom.” The response was a reflex, an automatic reassurance to my mother that everything was fine.

“No, you’re not. I’m your mother, Stacey. I know you better than anyone. I know when your smile is real, and when it’s just for show. But that boy—”

“Daniel,” I supplied.

“Daniel.” She nodded. “He put your real smile back on your face these past few weeks. And now that he’s gone . . .” She shook her head. “I’ve watched you fade, the last couple years. I figured you needed a kick out of the nest, but I didn’t know how to do it. Especially since I was the reason you stayed in this nest in the first place.” She reached across the table for my hand. “But don’t let me stand in your way again, honey. If you have something—someone—worth leaving home for, don’t miss that second chance.”

Her squeeze on my hand was strong. Once again I flashed back to her, so weak in that hospital bed, and for the first time it really sank in how long ago that was. Mom wasn’t weak. Not now, and probably hadn’t been for a long time. I’d stayed in Willow Creek to help take care of her, to be there for her, but she didn’t need me anymore. She hadn’t needed me for a while.

Somewhere along the way Mom’s health had stopped being a reason and had become an excuse. I thought back to that night, Daniel and I wrapped up in my sheets, when he asked me to come with him. I should have said yes. Why hadn’t I?