“Oh, it’s … fine.”
She hums. “How is Chase? Are you two getting along?”
“Yeah. We’re getting along swimmingly.”
“Okay, that sounds suspicious.”
I take a sip of my coffee. “I don’t know what to tell you. We’re managing just fine.”
“That’s good. Maggie called last night and said they’re having a ball at Kate’s. Apparently, Kate’s roommate moved out, so they’ve been patching, painting, and getting ready in case someone else moves in. You know how much they love a project.”
“I didn’t know they were project people, but I can see that.”
“Maggie bought the house they live in now because it needed so much work,” Mom says, chuckling. “Lonnie wanted another place closer to town, but Maggie was desperate to get her hands dirty in that old farmhouse. She thinks you can’t make a house a home without putting in elbow grease. I don’t know that I agree.”
I mosey down the hallway, past the stairs, and into the living room. The wind picks up outside, and sheets of rain pour past the windows. I pick up a blanket off the couch and put it over the back where it belongs.
“I can see what she’s saying,” I say.
“You can?”
Shrugging, I sit on the ottoman—and grin. “Yeah. Think about it. Think about my apartment in LA. It was a box that I came to after work. I slept there. Ate there. But it was essentially the same box someone else occupied before I arrived. It wasn’tmine. It never felt like mine.”
She hums in agreement.
I take a deep breath. “Iyala called and offered me my job back.”
My statement is met with silence.
“I told them I wasn’t sure,” I say. “They asked me to email them my response, but I haven’t.”
“Oh.”
“They called on Friday.”
“And it’s Wednesday, and you’re just telling me?”
I stand, prickled by her defensiveness.
“Are you going to go?” she asks.
Sighing, I close my eyes. “I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know what to do.”
“Do you want to go back to California?”
“No,” I say cautiously. “I don’t. I mean, it’s a job, andI need a job. I can’t live with you forever.”
“Well, you could.”
Her response makes me grin. “I know I could, but I can’t. I don’t want to.”
“I’ll try not to take offense to that.” She laughs. “I understand what you’re saying, and you’re right. You shouldn’t want to live with your mom.”
My hand slides along the mantel over the fireplace as I view the framed pictures on the ledge. All the Marshalls are present, and most are with Kennedy. But my favorite one of all is Chase with his brothers.
I pick up the silver frame and inspect it closer.
Gavin and Luke flank Chase. A taller, darker, tattooed version of them stands on the other side of Gavin. Someone must have told a joke seconds before the picture was snapped because all four are laughing. Gavin points at Luke, Luke’s head is thrown back, and his eyes are squeezed shut. Mallet is smirking as if he’s fighting his amusement. And Chase? He’s smiling from ear to ear, displaying a pure happiness I’ve rarely seen since I met him.
