Mid Life Love: At Last (Mid Life Love #2)(37)

“You know what my favorite food is?”

“Pasta. Chicken alfredo with extra pepper to be exact.”

“I don’t have any memories of you cooking anything when I was younger, so I’m not sure if I’d enjoy it. I appreciate the offer, but Claire and I already have plans for our anniversary. Besides, Thursday is family dinner night.”

“Right...Well, that’s...That’s all I came by to ask... Thanks for not turning me away today.”

“Wait a minute,” I said before she could turn away. I reached into my desk and sifted through a stack of envelopes. “I spoke to Claire about this and...She wants you to know that she doesn’t harbor any ill feelings about what you did to her last year.”

“So, you can officially forgive me for everything now?”

“No.” I rolled my eyes and walked around my desk to hand her the envelope. “But I do want you to come to my wedding. It would be nice to have at least one of my birth parents there.”

Her eyes lit up and she ran her fingers across the engraved “S” that sat on the edge of the flap. Then she slowly pulled the invitation out and stood still, silently reading it to herself.

I expected her to say something negative or ask “how much” we’d spent on the invitations, but she leaned forward and hugged me. Hard.

“I’m sorry I was so terrible to you when you were growing up, Jonathan...” She cried. “I really really am...I know it doesn’t mean much to you, but I’m very proud of all you’ve done with your life despite the f**ked up start you got...And I’m glad you’re getting married. I’ve never seen you this happy before...”

I looked down into her teary eyes, trying not to get sucked into her worn-out apologies.

She hugged me one last time and stepped back, pulling a small blue box out of her jacket. “I led a rehab session yesterday and all the women were talking about how much they missed celebrating their kids’ birthdays when they were younger.”

“Stop it.”

“No...I know I’ve missed all of your birthdays and important milestones, but...Here.” She pressed the box into my hand and rushed out of my office without looking back.

I set the box on my desk and stared at it, unsure of what to do. I was honestly tempted to throw it away and forget that she’d ever stopped by. Yet, as much as I loathed her for things she’d done in the past, I couldn’t deny that she was trying to make things right.

I slowly unwrapped the light blue box and hesitated before flipping off the top: A silver Audemar Piguet watch and a small, handwritten note:

Jonathan,

I’ve been a terrible mother to you throughout your life—even more terrible for what I did to your fiancée last year...I want you to know that I’m fully aware of the mistakes I’ve made and if you ever let me back into your life I won’t make the same mistakes again...In the grand scheme of things, I don’t have much time left to make things right, but I’ll be grateful for any seconds you choose to share with me from this point on...

You deserved so much more than what I gave you,

Mom

Ugh...

I felt that soft spot in my heart melting, that spot that wouldn’t let me give up on this woman, no matter how many times she f**ked things up.

I rushed onto my private elevator and rode it down to the parking lot. I headed over to her car and held the door open before she could shut it.

“Would you be opposed to making the pasta at my house tonight?” I sighed. “We can make it together.”

My mom looked around my kitchen, running her fingers against the granite countertops. “You have a very nice home, Jonathan. It suits you well...”

“Thank you.” I poured a tall glass of wine and handed it to her. “Are you allowed to drink alcohol yet?”

She shook her head.

“My mistake.” I set the glass down and walked over to the refrigerator. “Cranberry, orange, or apple?”

“Cranberry.”

“I’ll have the same then.” I fixed two glasses and sat across from her at the breakfast bar.

For the past hour and a half we’d traded recipes and made a huge pot of chicken alfredo. There were only “Oh, I always put extra cheese on the noodles once they’re done boiling,” and “I never use pre-packaged garlic” sentences between us. Nothing personal.

Whenever those empty words weren’t being spoken, there was nothing but an awkward silence hanging in the air between us, a silence that revealed we still weren’t comfortable with each other.

I took a sip of my juice and decided to give it a try. “How are you liking your new job at the department store? You’re working at Saks Fifth Avenue now, right?”

“Oh, no. I quit that after my first day.” She laughed.

“What? Why?”

“It wasn’t my scene—too many fashion trends to keep up with every week. I work at a salon now. I do make-up and eyebrow waxing.”

“You enjoy that?”

“A lot.” She smiled. “I know I don’t need the money but I’m really really good at it and I love seeing the reaction after someone’s been made over...” Her bright smile dimmed. “Claire’s not coming to dinner because I’m here, right?”

I looked at my watch. “Actually, she should be home any minute. Her assistant said she was running late. I didn’t get a chance to tell her you were coming.”