“Your mom is okay. She’s here. Right across the room watching us, actually.”
“What!” I exclaimed, ripping out of his arms and turning to scan the room.
The waiting room was more crowded than usual (I hoped), because all the chairs were filled and some kids were playing in a corner of the room. There was a snack area nearby, and it looked like some family members had spilled over to the vending area.
I spotted her against the far wall of the waiting room, a book clutched in her hand. She held it open, saving her place, but she wasn’t reading. She was staring at me. And she looked anything but happy. Of course, her husband was in surgery for God knew what.
“Is Ray going to be okay?” I asked Nick.
For some reason, I’d turned him into the all-knowing man during this mess. He seemed to have ways of getting information I didn’t understand.
“Well, there are no guarantees. But it sounded like it.”
“What is the surgery for?”
“Don’t you want to go talk to your Mom?” he prodded.
I glanced over. “Does she forgive me?”
He answered me with his own question. “Do you forgive her?”
I gave a sharp nod, emotion rising in me once more. I should never have let the distance grow so far between us. If she had been hurt, or died, I would have regretted that forever.
“Then go,” he said, and gave me a little push.
I went.
It was only as I got closer I realized my mother was trembling, and her eyes were glassy. She put down the book on a little end table covered in parenting and health magazines and stood up. Without a word, she hugged me. And while we clutched each other, she whispered into my hair: “I missed you. Thank God, you’re okay.”
I stepped back and swiped at the tears in free fall down my face. Mom was used to me being emotional.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m glad you’re okay, too.”
A doctor came in, and the group to my Mom’s left got up to go talk to him. Mom patted the seat next to her. “Sit down.”
“I don’t want to steal someone’s seat,” I said uneasily.
“You don’t have to stay. I just … wanted to say a few things to you before you go.”
“Mom, Ray is in surgery. I’m not going anywhere.”
She gripped my hand tightly, and nodded. Her lips pressed into a thin line. It made her look angry, but I sensed she was just fighting her emotions.
“Thank you,” she said. “Is your dad okay?”
“He and Deb are fine, I guess. I haven’t talked with them yet. Nick found out for me.”
“He’s helping you a lot tonight.”
I shot her a look, but she was studying her hands, which were twisting in her lap.
“I’m sorry, Edie, for how this has all worked out this summer.” She glanced up at me. “I know I haven’t been the best mother. I knew that before Nick ever printed that column.”
She paused and nibbled on her lip, uncharacteristically nervous. “If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been angry for a long time.”
“Because I moved in with Dad.”
She looked surprised.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I guess I should have known you’d realize it. You’ve always been very perceptive.”
I didn’t think it required me to be perceptive to notice my mom’s once warm attitude toward me was ice cold. Especially not after she yelled at me for going, and told me that I would regret it. My mom was nothing if not blunt when she was angry.
I didn’t say any of this. I just let Mom talk. And she did.
“I kept telling myself I needed to be more mature about the whole thing. But my husband left me for another woman, and then you left me for my husband. I was hurt. And I was afraid you’d be closer to him, that you’d love him more. That I’d lose the last piece of the family I once had.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I protested, when she finally looked to me for a response. “I was just tired of worrying about whether the electricity bill would be paid. Or whether there would be food in the fridge. You were working so much at the time I barely saw you. I thought it would be easier for everyone—”
“I was working so much for your benefit!” Mom said hotly.
I laid a hand on her arm.
“I know,” I said softly. “I felt guilty about that, too. I thought if I moved in with Dad, you wouldn’t have to work so hard. Maybe my thinking was flawed, but I was 14 at the time.”
She picked up her book and fiddled with the pages.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your graduation. Or do a better job celebrating your birthdays or other special occasions.” She glanced at me. “It sounds like an excuse, but I really did think your father was celebrating with you. That anything I did would be an afterthought, and not nearly as good as anything he could give you.”
“Mom!” I protested yet again. “I just wanted to know you cared—”
“I know,” she interrupted. “I’ve come to realize that now.”
Silence fell between us. A lot of thoughts were careening through my mind — from questions about what happened to Ray to thinking about how we could move forward from here.
“I would have let you stay with me if you really needed to, you know,” she said. “I knew you’d be okay on your own.”
“How could you know that?”
“Because you’re Edie Mason,” she said with a touch of pride. “You’ve always been a strong, independent girl. You’ve been responsible and worked hard. Besides, I knew you didn’t really want my life, and if you moved back in with me, you might start to feel too comfortable there or convince yourself you couldn’t do better. And you can.”
I gave her a skeptical look, and she smiled teasingly. “Don’t you remember what you used to tell me when you were a little girl?”
“No?”
“I’d try to teach you to cook, and you’d have no interest. I’d say, ‘Edie, one day your husband is going to want you to cook him dinner.’ And you’d tell me, ‘I’m never getting married. I’m going to get a job and take care of myself.’”
I smiled. “I do remember. Good thing, too. The odds of getting a boy to love me are pretty slim.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, and shifted her gaze across the room. I looked up and locked eyes with Nick.
NICK
Edie was deep in conversation with her mother. I could tell it was one of those heart-to-heart talks that aren’t easy but ultimately heal you. I saw Edie wipe at tears more than once, and had to resist the urge to go over and make sure her mother wasn’t hurting her more.
Then her gaze lifted, and our eyes met. My breath caught in my throat.
I loved her so much.
Would I ever get past her barriers? Though we’d fought a lot — and I’d made some majorly dumbass moves, Edie was a forgiving person. I was watching that forgiveness play out with her mother.
No, the real reason she pushed me away was fear. And wasn’t that the reason I’d brought up that credit card she and Lil had activated in my name and used? I was hurt by it, I was angry about it, but mostly I used it as a weapon against more rejection.
Edie got up and approached me. “Hey.”
“Hey. Everything okay with Ray?”
She exhaled a shaky laugh. “I haven’t gotten a chance to ask, if you can believe that. We’ve been talking about everything that happened this summer, and before. I just wanted to come say thank you, for calling around and helping me track everyone down.”
“Happy to help.”
“Oh, shoot!”
“What?”
Edie glanced around, then shrugged. “Logan dropped me off. I kind of remember him coming inside, and then I didn’t spare him another thought.”
I frowned. She was too chummy with that busboy. I’d seen him come in, too, and I’d given him a look over Edie’s shoulder as she trembled in my arms. He’d taken the hint and scrammed.
“He left right after
I found you at the counter,” I said. Then because I couldn’t help myself, I added: “If you miss him so much, you can call him back to take my place.”
“What? No, I just ... why would you say something like that?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered, and shoved my fingers through my hair in frustration.
I’d tried not to let the jealousy get to me until I’d won her forgiveness, but my emotions weren’t cooperating. The hurt look on her face made me want to kick my own ass.
“I should go. You don’t need this right now.”
She grabbed my arm as I turned. “Wait. Yes, I do.”
I turned back, surprised. “You need me acting like an ass?”
She huffed a small laugh. “Well, no. But I need you.”
My heart pounded double-time at her words, then sank like a stone as I watched the doubt cloud her eyes. This roller coaster of emotions was hell on my nervous system.
“I mean, if you don’t have somewhere more important you need to be. And ... I’ll understand if you don’t want to stay. You probably need to work.”
I gestured to the laptop bag over my shoulder, and held up the reporter’s notebook in my left hand. “I can work the story from here. I can set up my computer by the vending machines and write up something before deadline.”
“You don’t have to stay—”
I pulled her into my arms for the third time that night. I felt like a lucky bastard, getting an excuse to hold her close so many times in one night. Her crisis was my salvation, and I was a jerk for enjoying it. Another example of my selfishness at work. But I hoped it was comforting her, too.
“I want to stay,” I murmured into her hair. “I’ll go set up. Talk to your mom. Find out about Ray. I’ll give you a ride home when you’re ready.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for being here, and thank you for that scholarship. I mean it.”
I pulled back and smiled down at her. “I know. You always mean it.”
I touched her face gently, then turned and made my way toward the vending area to write up my story.
EDIE
I spent the next few hours with my mom.
She tried to send me home more than once, and I almost went, because I knew Nick was waiting for me and was probably exhausted. I’d checked on him earlier, and he’d sent off not one but three stories to his editors. How he did all that and tracked down my whole family was a mystery to me, but I was impressed.
Mom and I reminisced about my early childhood, made promises to communicate better and be honest with each other in the future, and worried about Ray.
He’d had his leg crushed when a car flew through the trailer and landed on him. He’d pushed Mom out of the way just in time, so he was quite the hero. I thought the better part of valor would have been to take my mother to a storm shelter when the tornado sirens went off, but at least he’d done his best to protect her when push came to shove (literally).
Finally, the doctor returned around 3 a.m.
Mom and I stood up, eager for news. Though he looked tired, he smiled for us. “I have good news.”
We both sighed in relief.
“We had to put a rod and several pins in Ray’s leg. The bone was shattered, and one of his ligaments was torn.”
That didn’t sound like such great news.
“I know that’s daunting,” he said, looking at me. “But, he will heal. With therapy, Ray will walk again, though he may experience some pain for the rest of his life.”
Mom covered her mouth, her eyes filling with tears, and the doctor reached out and clasped her hand. I noticed Nick had drifted from the vending area, and I motioned for him to come closer.
“But he does have the rest of his life to live,” the doctor said. “An accident like that … he’s fortunate to be alive, Mrs. Staples. Help him appreciate that. It won’t be easy at first. He’ll be shocked, then he’ll be angry. But he’ll get there, with your support.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
The doctor turned, and noticing Nick, held out his hand to shake. “Hello, I was just giving an update on Ray Staples. Are you … related?”
The doctor sounded skeptical, probably because Nick looked nothing like my mother and me. His skin was olive-toned where ours was pale; his gorgeous blue eyes looked even more vivid under the fluorescent lighting.
Before either of us could answer, Mom piped up: “He’s my daughter’s boyfriend.”
“Well, nice to meet you,” he said, losing interest in Nick now that he’d confirmed he wasn’t snooping. “You can visit Ray in recovery, but keep it short. He needs to rest. You can return in the morning for regular hours to see him again.”
My mom nodded, and the doctor was gone.
“You should let Nick take you home, Edie,” Mom said with a sigh. “Ray is probably out of it anyway. Thanks so much for waiting with me.”
“Are you sure?” Nick asked.
“Yes. Go. You can come back tomorrow when he’ll remember it.”
She leaned forward and hugged me. Then to my surprise — and Nick’s apparent shock — she grabbed him in a tight hug too. She whispered something into his ear, and I watched color rise in his cheeks.
I was afraid to ask what my mother might have said. If it embarrassed Nick, it would probably mortify me.
Don’t let it be about sex, I prayed as we left the waiting room together.
Nick waited until we reached the car to tease me. “So you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend for your family …”
I turned in my seat toward him. “Nick, you know I wasn’t … I didn’t mean to—”
He smirked at me, all tongue-tied, and said, “I know. I was just giving you a hard time.”
I couldn’t help but ask the question burning in me ever since I saw my mom whisper in his ear: “What did my mom say to you anyway?”
He huffed an embarrassed laugh. “Um … she said I didn’t have the best record as a journalist, but I was cute enough she’d forgive me.”
My eyes snapped open. “She did not say that!”
He laughed again. “What, you don’t agree?”
“As if you weren’t vain enough already,” I grumbled.
“It’s not vain if it’s true,” he teased.
I huffed a breath in annoyance and collapsed back in my seat, my eyes slipping closed without any say-so on my part. I was tired, and I couldn’t look at Nick without giving away my thoughts. Best to just hide behind my closed eyelids.
“Sorry,” I heard him murmur. “Just go to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get to Lily’s.”
“Jaime’s,” I mumbled.
“What?”
“Staying with Jaime.”
NICK
I pulled into Jaime’s driveway and glared up at the dark house.
It was a lot like Carlos’ place, a two-story colonial with modern updates, but I hated that Edie would sleep in her ex’s house and not mine. I had to remind myself it was my own fault she was no longer sleeping under my roof.
But if she gave me another chance, I would take it and run.
I shut off the engine, and Edie glanced blearily out the windshield.
“We’re here,” I said, stating the obvious. “How long have you been staying with Jaime?”
My jealousy was also obvious, no doubt, but I couldn’t contain the question. She yawned, covering her mouth with a hand.
“A while. Lil’s place is too crowded. Besides, I kind of needed some space from her … after everything that happened. You know, with the credit card theft and all.”
I nodded, focusing on the house in front of me. “Edie …”
She yawned again, barely keeping her eyes open. It wasn’t the right time for a serious talk.
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re exhausted. Go get some sleep.”
“What about you? You should stay at Carlos’ place. Or … do you want to stay here?”
Oh, man. A lot of thoughts went through my head.
&n
bsp; Stay there, as in Jaime had an extra room? Or stay there, as in crash on their couch? Or the thought that had my pulse racing: stay there, as in share her bed? Not that I thought anything would happen. We were both exhausted, and I would not make love to Edie in her ex-boyfriend’s house.
“Nah, the apartment’s not far. I kind of want to sleep in my own bed.”
I kicked myself for not driving straight to my apartment in the first place. I could have basked in a few more hours of this stolen intimacy before Edie woke up enough to realize it was over between us.
She leaned her head on my shoulder, snuggling in. “I wouldn’t know what that’s like anymore.”
My heart hurt for her. “Things are better with your mom, though?”
“Yeah.” She patted my chest. “Thanks to you.”
“No … the tornado did that. You can be the only person in Kansas grateful for a vicious killer storm.”
She laughed. I didn’t hear it so much as feel the vibration of it where she rested against my body.
“We could just sleep here,” she said, her words slurring she was so tired.
God, it was tempting.
“Mmm. You make a pretty good pillow,” she added as she snuggled in a little more. “You’re very warm.”
I grinned in the dark, even though she couldn’t see me. “I think you might regret that when we’re both hot and sweaty.”
Jesus, what am I saying? That evoked a picture I did not need right now.
“What?” she mumbled. Thank God she was too tired to take what I said the wrong way.
Come on,” I said, shifting her before I embarrassed both of us. “You need a real bed, and so do I.”
I got out of the car and walked around, but she opened the door and slipped out before I could get it for her. Determined to be a gentleman anyway, I walked her to the door. Before going in, she turned to face me.
“You know what this feels like?” she asked.
Our eyes met, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I remembered, quite clearly, our conversation about the moment you get to the door at the end of the date.
“Should I kiss her? Should I not kiss her?” I murmured, and my pulse kicked up a notch at the thought of what I’d choose.
Earning Edie (Espinoza Boys #1) Page 25