“Good. I showed him around the neighborhood. Then we ordered pizza and watched a movie. He’s brushing his teeth now.”
To her horror, Eliza felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. She held the phone away from her face as she sniffled.
“Eliza?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” Distracting herself, she yanked the bundle of sheets across her lap, smoothing out the creases.
“Thank you.” Grant’s words floated through the speakers barely above a whisper. And yet she had to stop herself from reading into his tender inflection.
She bit her lip, blinking back tears even though he couldn’t see her face. “You’re welcome,” she said at last, her tone convincingly steady.
She heard him clear his throat before saying, “Ben wouldn’t go to sleep without saying good night to you first. I thought about a video call, but it’s late and…”
He trailed off, and there was so much Eliza could infer in what he didn’t say. But rather than ask, she said, “A video call would be great.”
“Okay. Then I’ll have Ben call you back.”
“Thanks.” Eliza held her breath as they sat in silence, not speaking for several seconds.
“Lizzy?”
Her pulse skipped. “Yes?”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
Call Ended flashed across the screen as tears slid down Eliza’s cheeks.
Gathering a breath, she quickly rubbed away any sign of sadness as she accepted the incoming video call from her son.
“Hey, Bug.”
At the cheerful lilt in her voice, no one would ever know that her heart was slowly crumbling.
Chapter 29
From his position at the dining room table, Grant shifted his gaze from the art camp registration form to the small balcony beyond the sliding glass door.
Ben perched on a barstool, adjusting his brand-new glasses while he studied the sheet of watercolor paper clipped to the tall easel. Ben had picked out the lime-green frames all by himself and seemed to love them so far. Minus the slight discomfort that stemmed from having a foreign object attached to your face at all times. But he would get used to it eventually.
After dipping his paintbrush into the palette, Ben dabbed it against the canvas, mimicking the bright petals of the potted bougainvillea Grant had purchased last summer at his mother’s insistence.
It wasn’t lost on Grant that Ben had chosen to paint the only plant he owned, rather than the flashy, modern apartment building across the street or the towering high-rises in the distance. It also hadn’t slipped past Grant that the vibrant petals happened to be Eliza’s favorite color.
The sliding door remained open, the frenetic sounds of the city emanating beneath them—car horns, dogs barking, and the occasional shouting match on the street corner.
Grant never minded the cacophony before. But after the peacefulness of Poppy Creek, each siren wail seemed louder somehow. Almost intrusive.
At first, he’d wondered if the plethora of unfamiliar noises would make it difficult for Ben to sleep in his new surroundings. But Ben had quickly developed a habit of calling Eliza after Grant tucked him into bed. Several minutes later, Grant would tiptoe into his room and find Ben sound asleep, the phone limp in his tiny hand.
Grant would carefully slide the phone from his grasp and spend the next half hour filling Eliza in on the details of their day. He’d grown to cherish these moments, eagerly awaiting the pleasant lilt of her voice. Her vivacious laugh. The way she’d sigh deeply whenever he’d share one of Ben’s adorable mannerisms or silly expressions.
Sometimes, he’d imagine what it would be like if they were raising Ben together… cuddled up on the couch, munching on warm fresh-from-the-oven snickerdoodles while Ben and some pudgy, floppy-eared pup wrestled on the carpet. He’d have his arm draped around her shoulders, while she nuzzled against him, teasing him for getting crumbs in her hair. They’d share a laugh. And he’d kiss her softly… just because.
Getting lost in the daydream again, Grant shook his head sharply, steering his attention back to the registration form. Pushing all thoughts of Eliza from his mind, he focused on the next question.
Child’s full name.
Grant filled in the spaces for Ben’s first and last name before shouting, “Hey, what’s your middle name?”
He poised the ballpoint pen over the empty box, waiting for Ben’s response.
“Thomas!”
The pen clattered to the tabletop.
“Thomas?” Grant repeated, though not loud enough for Ben to hear him over the wail of a passing ambulance.
Shock pinned Grant to his seat.
Eliza had given Ben his middle name.
But why? What did it mean? It was as if she’d intentionally kept a link between them.
Grant stood, pacing the floor as he tried to untangle his conflicting emotions.
Over the last few days, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. And each time her face materialized in his mind’s eye his heart physically ached to hold her.
They belonged together. All three of them.
And he’d never been more confident of that truth until this precise moment.
A knock at the door yanked Grant from his thoughts. It couldn’t be her… could it?
Grant crossed the room in quick, purposeful strides and threw open the door.
Shock, disappointment, and confusion rippled through him in rapid succession. “Colt? What are you doing here?”
“Why, yes. I’d love to come in. Thanks.” Grinning, Colt breezed past him as though Grant had anticipated his arrival.
“I’ll repeat…” Grant said slowly, swinging the door shut. “What are you doing here?”
The loud slam drew Ben’s attention, and as soon as he caught sight of Colt, he slipped off the barstool and ran in from the balcony. “Hi! Is Mom here, too?”
“Sorry, kiddo. Just me today. But I brought you something.” Colt held out a small pink box emblazoned with The Calendar Café’s logo—the one Grant had designed.
Ben’s eyes brightened as he flipped open the lid, revealing a mini tiramisu cheesecake. Glancing at his dad, he asked, “Can I?”
“Sure.” Grant smiled. “But eat it out on the balcony while Colt and I talk, okay?”
Racing into the kitchen for a fork, Ben hummed happily to himself as he skipped outside with his treat.
“He seems to be doing well.” Colt’s gaze followed Ben a moment before flickering back to Grant.
“He is. All things considered.” Grant crossed his arms, not really in the mood for chitchat. “How did you find me?”
Colt snorted. “You make me sound like a hit man. I asked your dad. He didn’t seem to think it was a matter of national security, Mr. President.”
Grant cracked a smile and lowered his arms. “Sorry. I suppose I’ve been wound pretty tight the last few days. It’s tough being a single parent.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Crossing into the living room, Colt plopped onto the leather bucket chair, kicking one foot onto his knee.
“You want to co-parent with me?” Grant teased, sinking onto the couch. He shifted a few times, the slick leather squeaking as he tried to get comfortable. No easy feat given the bout of nervous energy triggered by Colt’s visit.
Colt pulled a face. “No, thanks. Much as I love Ben.” Uncrossing his legs, he leaned forward, an uncharacteristically earnest expression straining his features. “I’m here because I think you made a mistake leaving Poppy Creek. And Eliza,” he added with a meaningful glance.
Grant stared, blinking a few times to see if Colt would evaporate into thin air. The whole situation was too surreal.
“Look, this isn’t exactly easy for me to say.” Colt sprang from the armchair and strode toward the gas fireplace, leaning against the mantel. “You and I haven’t always gotten along, so you may not care what I have to say. But there’s something you should know…” Colt paused, hesitation sparking in his t
urquoise-blue eyes before adding, “About your mom.”
“What about my mom?” Grant tensed, a muscle in his jaw twitching.
“Well…” Colt ran a hand through his dark blond hair, struggling with what to say next. “Jeez. Eliza will kill me for telling you, but if it were me, I’d want to know.”
“Know what?” Grant gritted his teeth, ready to shake the words right out of Colt’s mouth.
“Okay, here it goes….” Colt exhaled, turning to face him. “Your mom blackmailed Eliza into keeping quiet about Ben. I don’t know how or why, but that’s the truth. I overheard her talking to Luke and Cassie about it the day of the carnival.”
“What?” Dazed, Grant shook his head. “That can’t be true. Why wouldn’t Eliza tell me?”
“Because she’s trying to protect you, man.” Colt sounded exasperated, as though annoyed he had to spell it out for him. “She knew you’d be crushed, so she didn’t tell you. Sacrificing her own chance at happiness to protect your relationship with your mom. Arguably, a pretty dumb decision, but there you have it. The woman’s crazy about you. I mean, even all this didn’t tempt her.” Colt grinned, humorously flexing his biceps.
Grant threw his head back, laughing until he had to fight for breath.
“Jeez. It wasn’t that funny,” Colt drawled with mock offense.
Grant swiped a stray tear of laughter from the corner of his eye. “Thank you. Seriously. Thanks.”
“Does that mean my magical powers of persuasion worked?”
Glancing at Ben gobbling up his mini cheesecake on the balcony, Grant smiled. “Believe it or not, I think I’d already made my decision before you arrived.”
Colt arched one eyebrow as Grant stood and held out his hand. “But I’m really grateful you stopped by. Honestly. And… I think I might have misjudged you.”
“Don’t sweat it.” Accepting Grant’s hand, Colt pulled him into a side hug, slapping his shoulder. “I think we’re all guilty of misreading things every now and then. Which is why I’ve become a big proponent of ‘say what you mean and mean what you say.’”
Briefly wondering if Colt had alluded to something personal with his pronouncement, Grant nodded in complete agreement.
He had a whole slew of things he needed to say.
To one person in particular.
None of which would take place over the phone.
As Eliza stuffed small personalized packets of coffee into white ceramic mugs, she tried not to think about Ben. But Cassie’s cottage held so many memories of her son. All the evenings they’d spent playing board games and putting together elaborate puzzles with Edith. Or helping with chores around the house after her husband passed away.
Then there were all the new memories with Cassie, like decorating the tree and opening gifts in front of the cozy, crackling fire on Christmas morning.
The cottage felt like home.
But what good was a home without Ben?
He’d only been gone a few days. Yet her heart ached as though she hadn’t seen him in months.
“Thanks for helping with the wedding favors.” Cassie tied a gold ribbon to the handle of the mug before setting it on the table and grabbing another one. “I’m glad Maggie recounted. Otherwise, we’d be short fifty of them.”
“Anytime,” Eliza murmured, barely listening. Gazing at the delicate mug in her hand, Eliza took in the beautifully stenciled lettering. Love Always Hopes. She believed the words to be true. But they proved to be stubbornly elusive in the present moment.
“Is it helping to take your mind off Ben being gone?”
“A little,” Eliza croaked, tears welling in her eyes.
“Funny, but I don’t believe you,” Cassie teased, rising from the couch. “Why don’t I make us some coffee?”
“That would be nice, thanks.” Eliza sniffled.
Halfway to the kitchen, Cassie paused, startled by a knock at the door.
Eliza’s heart skipped into her throat. He’d come back!
Grant had come back for her!
Raising both eyebrows, Cassie shot her a look confirming she’d had the same thought.
As Cassie ambled toward the foyer, Eliza quickly dried her eyes and smoothed back a few flyaways from her forehead.
Casting a hopeful grin over her shoulder, Cassie threw open the front door. But her greeting died on her lips as all the color drained from her face.
“Mom?”
“M-may I come in?” Donna Hayward shifted her feet, tucking a strand of glossy, dark hair behind her ear.
Dazed, Cassie stepped to the side, letting Donna enter before closing the door.
The two women stood near the threshold, unsure how to greet one another, deciding on a stiff nod, rather than the typical hug one might expect between a mother and daughter.
From her perch on the couch, Eliza marveled at how physically alike they were, with the same ripples of mahogany curls and striking green eyes. Although, Cassie appeared more girl-next-door, with her understated makeup and sweet demeanor. While Donna could be Cassie’s older, more vivacious sister, with her heavy black eyeliner and low-cut blouse.
Eliza tensed as Donna’s gaze drifted in her direction.
“Mom, this is my dear friend Eliza. Eliza, this is my mother, Donna.” Cassie led the way into the living room, taking a seat beside Eliza on the couch.
“Nice to meet you,” Eliza said weakly, wondering if she should leave and give them privacy. As far as she knew, Cassie hadn’t spoken to her mother since Donna skipped out on rehab right before Christmas.
Donna offered a tentative smile before alternating her gaze between two armchairs. Finally, she chose the one closest to the fireplace, not that it mattered, since it hadn’t been lit in months. She crossed and uncrossed her long legs, wearing her discomfort as blatantly as her costume jewelry.
“Why don’t I go start the coffee?” Eliza whispered, ready to excuse herself when Cassie reached for her hand.
Her furtive squeeze and clammy palm communicated all Eliza needed to know. Squeezing back, she remained firmly in her seat.
“I’ve been trying to contact you for months. I thought something horrible might have happened to you.” Cassie’s voice cracked, and Eliza tightened her grip on her hand.
“I know. And I’m sorry.” Donna stared at her fingers laced in her lap. “I’ve been… unavailable.”
Unavailable? She had to be kidding. Her only child was getting married in two days. And she hadn’t sent a single text, phone call, letter… nothing. She hadn’t even bothered to decline Cassie’s wedding invitation. And Eliza knew for a fact that her friend had kept a seat open in the front row, just in case.
Eliza wanted to scream. Instead, she focused on taking slow, intentional breaths. She needed to be a pillar of support for Cassie, not fly off the handle in indignation. No matter how deserved it may be.
“What happened?” Cassie whispered, her fingers trembling in Eliza’s grasp.
“I… couldn’t do it.” Shame flickered in Donna’s eyes and, for a moment, Eliza softened. It was a feeling she knew well.
“I wanted to. I wanted to be strong. So very badly.” An inky-black streak followed the tear trailing down Donna’s cheek. “That first night in rehab, I knew I’d never make it. And I kept thinking about everything you’d sacrificed to get me there.” A second tear followed the first, stalling on her chin. Donna brushed it aside roughly, as though she blamed the tear for everything wrong in her life. “So, I left during the trial period. When you could still get your money back.”
Except for the $1,000 deposit…. Eliza winced, dismissing the unkind thought as soon as it entered her mind. She knew Cassie didn’t care about the money.
Sniffling, Donna reached into her purse and pulled out a thick white envelope. Leaning forward, she set it on the coffee table. “I know it’s a little late, but that’s your deposit. Plus a little extra for all the times I borrowed money and never paid you back.”
“I don’t want the money, Mom
.” Cassie wiped at her damp cheeks, tears tumbling freely. “I just want you to be okay.”
A tender, unexpected smile lit Donna’s eyes. “I know. You’ve always been more than I ever deserved.”
At the catch in Donna’s voice, it took all of Eliza’s self-control not to become a sobbing mess.
“When I left rehab, I… relapsed.” Donna dropped her gaze back to her lap. “A week-long binge. If I hadn’t run into my friend Gretchen when I did, I-I…” Anguish contorted her features, and Eliza heard Cassie inhale sharply. Her hand went limp, and Eliza traced soothing circles against her skin with her thumb, willing herself to remain strong for Cassie’s sake. But even the thought of her dear friend losing her mother in such a horrific way sent shivers down Eliza’s spine.
“Gretchen and her AA sponsor helped me get sober. I wanted to get in touch with you sooner, but… I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case I failed.” Reaching back into her purse, Donna retrieved a shimmering green token. She placed it on top of the envelope. “I just got my three month chip. The next one is blue, for six months. I…” Donna paused, glancing toward the empty fireplace as color swept across her cheeks. “I’d like it to be your wedding present. That is, if I’m still invited.”
Slipping her hand from Eliza’s, Cassie leapt off the couch.
Donna rose to meet her daughter, and the two women embraced in the center of the living room, their tears falling unrestrained.
Eliza watched the scene unfold, her heart breaking and mending all at once.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the coffee table, Ben’s face flashing across the screen for their good night call. Not wanting to disrupt Cassie and her mom, Eliza snatched her cell and ducked outside.
“Hey, Bug.”
“Mom!” Her heart swelled as his cheerful chatter filled the speaker, Grant’s voice muffled in the background.
Oh, how she longed to all be together again.
But for now, she would cherish the little things.
Like good night phone calls.
And above all…
She would hope.
The Truth in Tiramisu (A Poppy Creek Novel Book 2) Page 18