Lovers Like Us (Like Us #2)(124)

“Mom…” Jane’s voice tugs our attention towards the staircase. She descends in a lilac tulle skirt, leopard-print sweater, and her brunette hair frizzes around her face.

Jane never ended up speaking to her mom. Not that day in Kansas. Not the night she returned home. This is the first real gesture.

We’re all quiet, but Rose hastily unclasps her Chanel purse, her nails painted a matte black. Tabloids call my aunt an “ice queen” but her heart is fucking giant. I saw it as a kid when five-year-old Ben got poison ivy and she told her son she’d bear his pain for him if she could. She whispered in French, made him a hot bath, and sat with him the whole night.

And I definitely see her heart now. As she pulls out a pair of heels.

They look more like pink suede sandals with a chunky glittery heel attached. My aunt mostly wears simple black dresses and classic heels. These are eccentric.

These are Jane.

At the sight of them, Jane stops mid-stair. “What are those?”

Rose delicately holds the heeled sandals. “They’re for you—but I’m not trying to buy your love,” she snaps. “I saw them and they screamed Jane Eleanor Cobalt, my beautiful, brilliant firstborn daughter… If you don’t want them, I’ll return them to the store or I can throw them in a fire. Watch them burn…” She tries to raise her chin, fighting tears. She quickly brushes the corners of her eyes. “Whatever you want.”

Jane smiles with a watery gaze. “I’d love them.” She reaches the bottom of the stairs.

“Really?” Rose asks. “Because if you don’t like the buckle or the sequins, I can have them altered.”

“No,” Jane says, holding the heels with her mom for an extra beat. “They’re perfect.”

I smile with practically everyone else.

My dad pipes in, “Good, she’s been carrying those things around for four months.”

“Lo!” my mom whisper-hisses and slugs his shoulder. “That’s a secret.”

“Oops,” my dad says dryly, but he smiles at Jane who looks overwhelmed

“You did?” Jane almost bursts into tears.

Rose rubs her daughter’s cheek. “I thought one day, you’d want to speak to me again. But I didn’t know when.”

Jane wraps her arms around her mom. Aunt Rose is notorious for hating hugs, but she reciprocates tenfold. I can’t hear them whisper to one another, but I’m sure they’re exchanging I miss yous, I’m sorrys, and I love yous.

I glance at my family. My mom and dad in a loving embrace: his arms around her waist, her body clung to him. And Ryke picks up Daisy and tosses his wife playfully over his shoulder. So she hangs upside-down, her smile as bright as the sun.

Everyone is okay.

For the moment. But it fills me up to the fucking brim.

When Rose and Jane break apart, her blue eyes land on her dad. Silently, Connor goes and hugs his daughter.

Jane caves instantly.

“Mon c?ur,” he whispers. My heart. “I emailed you an essay this morning.”

She slightly pulls back. “I didn’t ask for another one.”

“It’s a prelude to the first one,” he says smoothly. “Three-thousand words on why you’re an extraordinary daughter. The best we could ever have.”

She puts her palms to her cheeks, overwhelmed. Tearful. Happy. And she just nods in thanks. Jane looks to me.

I smile more. You did the hardest part, Janie. And everything is better than what it was.

She smiles into a tearful laugh, wiping her cheeks.

My mom detaches from my dad and wanders towards me…no, not me. She faces Farrow. Those two haven’t talked either. Not once.

Farrow straightens up off the door. “Lily—”

“No wait,” my mom says and wipes her sweaty palms on her baggy Avengers Assemble shirt. “So I have something for you too…and just to be clear, I can’t take back anything that I said or did at the Camp-Away. Because Maximoff is my son, and I want to be the kind of mother who’s strong enough to stand up for him and protect him.” She nods resolutely. “I didn’t cower, and I’m proud of that.”

You’ve always been that kind of mom, I want to say, but I inhale a tight breath, having no goddamn clue where this is going. But my dad sends me sharp looks to let them talk.

So I stay quiet.

Farrow nods just as confidently. “I’m glad you did.”

My mom sniffs and reaches for a small hand-wrapped package she set on the coffee table. “So this is a welcome back to Philly…thingy.”

“It’s not a thingy,” Rose snaps.

“Yeah,” Daisy agrees, still upside-down, “you said you wouldn’t call it that.”

“It’s a gift,” my mom says in a strong nod.

My pulse speeds. Is this normal? Mom’s gifting their son’s boyfriend a present. I think I’m overthinking. No, I know I’m over-fucking-thinking.

Farrow smiles, eyeing me a bit, and then he starts to tear at the tape. The package is wrapped in newspaper. Minimal effort—I’m thankful for that. Keeping it casual, Mom.

“You didn’t have to give me anything,” Farrow tells her. “This is enough.” He means being on speaking terms and her acceptance.

“I wanted to,” my mom says and she backs up into my dad’s chest. He holds her and hunches to rest his chin on her bony shoulder.