First Down (Beyond the Play, #1)(81)

“You look so pretty,” Laura gushes. She shows me the photograph. Honestly, I think I look super stressed, but maybe that’s just because it’s how I feel. In less than an hour, a whole bunch of people are going to be looking at my photography while I’m standing right next to the display. I’m going to hear their opinions. And with a little luck, I’ll win five thousand dollars, although the painter across the room from me is seriously talented, so if I had to give the prize to someone, I would choose them.

“I guess so,” I say.

“James is coming, right?”

“Yep. And probably his brothers, too.”

Laura sighs. “Cooper is so hot.”

I make a face. “You like the beard?”

“Definitely. Not that James isn’t cute with his whole clean-cut serious quarterback vibe, but Coop’s the one I’d tap.”

“Good to know,” I say dryly. “Considering James is mine.”

“He is cute,” someone agrees.

I turn, my eyes widening as I take in the fact my mother is standing in front of me, a bouquet of flowers in her arms. She kisses my cheek. “I know I’m early,” she says. “But I had something I wanted to talk to you about.”

I glance back at the display, wondering if maybe I should do some more rearranging, but my gut tells me no, it’s perfect. “I guess I’m done. I have a couple minutes before the gallery opens.”

She cradles the bouquet in the crook of her arm, holding out her hand. “There’s a little cafe next door, Nicole got us a table.”

“We can’t be long,” I warn.

“We won’t be,” she promises. “We’ll see you in a few minutes, Laura.”

I grab my coat and throw it on as I follow her out of the gallery. It’s weird enough to be in New York City, but seeing my mother here? I can’t remember the last time she left town, much less did something like this. Fortunately, the cafe is quite literally next door; I see Aunt Nicole in the window, sitting with a mug of tea in front of her.

“Bex!” she says, standing to hug me when we meet her at the table. “I can’t wait to see your photographs!”

“Thanks,” I say, sitting down across from her with my coat in my lap. My mom chooses to sit next to Aunt Nicole instead of me, which is a little weird. I’m irrationally worried I’m about to get a lecture, but there’s no reason for that. I tap my ankle boot against the floor. “What’s up?”

They look at each other for a long moment. My mother takes a deep breath. I dig my fingernails into my palms.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she says. “Not at all, honey, this is a good thing. I want to sell the diner.”

I just stare at her. “What?”

“Nicole and I talked about it, and she helped me realize what we need to do. I should have sold it way back when, but I didn’t let myself move on.” She blinks; when she continues talking, her voice is thick. “I’ve held you back for too long. It wasn’t fair of me to try and tie you to it. I kept thinking maybe your father would come back to it, but he hasn’t. It’s time.”

As she talks, my heart starts sprinting in my chest, and by the time she finishes, I’m a little worried it’s about to explode. I realize with a start that I’m shaking. “Mom?” I manage to croak out.

“I listened in, the day James came to talk to you,” she adds, blush coloring her cheeks. “He’s right, you deserve more. You deserve to pursue your passion. You deserve to go be with him, no matter where he’s drafted.” She laughs a little, shaking her head. “Did I use that word right?”

“I think so,” Aunt Nicole says, leaning in with a little nod. “Right, Bex?”

“Right,” I say weakly. My mind is spinning so fast that I’m not even upset with my mother for eavesdropping on me.

“When your father and I bought the diner, we thought it would be something we could share, something we could build a life around. I didn’t want to give up that dream, even when it was gone. I need to move on, and I need to let you go.”

“Mom,” I say again, my voice strangled, half a sob. “What are you going to do?”

“We’ll sell it,” she says firmly. “The whole building. You can use some of the money to help with your student loans, and I’ll work on finding a place. There’s an apartment near Nicole that I might rent. And I’m thinking…”

She trails off, blinking back tears. Aunt Nicole pats her hand.

“She’s going to put herself in a program,” Aunt Nicole says.

Mom nods. “I need therapy. I need to get my head right. I never coped with your father’s leaving, with everything that happened after, and if I’m going to be a good mother to you moving forward, I need to find a way to make that happen.”

“I can’t believe it,” I whisper.

“I know,” she says. “But I’m going to prove it to you, honey. I want to be there for you, and I want you to have the chance to do whatever makes you happy. Truly happy.”

I practically launch myself across the table in my rush to hug her. She laughs against my shoulder, hugging tightly as she rubs my back. “I love you,” she whispers. “And I’m sorry.”