9
"Happy Thanksgiving, dear."
Noah shook himself out of his musings and smiled so that Mom could hear it in his voice. When he was on the phone with her, it was too dangerous to let his mind wander.
But it wanted to. Right back to the kiss he'd shared with Jilly. Same place it'd been wandering all week.
"Happy Thanksgiving, Mom."
Memories of the hot press of her mouth kept sneaking up on him at inopportune moments. Like now, when he needed his full concentration to speak to his mom.
He forced himself to focus. He'd been on a walk, out in the brisk breeze, and now ducked through the back door, happy to be out of the icy wind.
"How'd your turkey turn out this year?" He toed off his shoes and folded up his cane, leaving both in the mudroom.
Mom usually went all-out on the meal, up before dawn to start cooking. Often, she and Steve invited friends from church or the community to share the meal with them.
"I'm not cooking this year," Mom announced cheerfully.
What?
"Since you were too busy to come home, Steve convinced me to volunteer at our church's meal delivery event. We'll eat with the other volunteers at the church after it's all over."
"Wow, good for you." Or maybe good for Steve. Noah's mom was usually a stickler for following holiday tradition, even if it meant she spent most of the day in the kitchen and ended it exhausted.
"Speaking of wow... Steve surprised me with his Christmas gift yesterday."
The cruise tickets. He was surprised by the sudden wave of aching emotion. He missed his mom. He leaned one hip against the kitchen counter, rubbed his aching chest with the opposite hand.
"You've always wanted to do a Caribbean cruise," he said.
"Yes, but it's over Christmas. I didn't want to ruin Thanksgiving, but I'm going to talk to Steve tomorrow. We can't go at Christmas."
"Sure you can. The tickets are nonrefundable, aren't they?"
"Oh." She sounded quiet and sad. "I don't know."
He didn't want her to be sad on his account.
"It's just another day on the calendar," he said. "There's nothing magical about it." Not for him. Not anymore. "If you and Steve want to come for a visit, come in January."
He could sense that she was wearing down. "I don't know..."
He made a noisy, dismissive exhale. "You should go. I'll be fine, I promise."
After the hell he'd put her through as a child and during his teen years, she deserved this. She deserved a gold medal for persevering in her love for him.
God knew he didn't deserve it.
Maybe Jilly had sensed it, somehow. Maybe she'd been able to feel the darkness he tried to keep hidden inside, and that was why she pulled away so violently.
But before she had... man, she'd been fire in his arms.
And he wanted to do it all over again.
"Are you okay? You seem distracted."
Mom.Focus.
