“I can’t believe you’re here,” Mom said between sobs. Then just as suddenly as she’d plowed into me, she pushed away, wiping the tears from beneath her eyes. Turning toward the street, she made an exaggerated gesture forward. “Mercy! Come meet my son. My Landon… he’s home! Come, celebrate with us and I’ll make my chicken pot pie, my boy’s favorite.”
That’s when I realized Mom had walked home, and she wasn’t alone. A blonde woman stood at the bottom of the cement stairs watching us from under a bright blue umbrella. Long straight hair framed an attractive face with big blue eyes and plump pink lips. A dark scarf circled her neck, covering the top of a cream-colored trench coat that ended just above her knees. Dark nylons stretched over shapely legs that ended in black high heels. This was Mercy, the woman Mom mentioned whenever we talked. I’d expected her to be older and nerdy, nothing like this classic beauty in her early twenties.
“No,” Mercy snapped. She was frowning at me. Turning her attention to my mom, she forced a smile. “Thank you for the invitation, Beth, but I can’t stay. Ben is coming over for dinner tonight and I want to be there when he arrives. It was nice to finally meet you, Landon.” She took a step back.
“You too, Mercy.”
She turned to leave, showing off sexy curves that her trench coat couldn’t quite hide. The street lights were on, but they didn’t do much to illuminate the darkness and I worried about someone who looked that tempting walking home alone in this neighborhood. Especially after the thugs I’d seen earlier. Assholes like that would mess with a lady like Mercy in a heartbeat.
“Wait, hold up. I’ll walk you home,” I said, picking up Mom’s umbrella on my way to the gate.
Mercy stopped and looked at me over her shoulder. “That’s not necessary. I only live on the next block.”
“But it would sure make me feel better to know you’re safe,” Mom said, unlocking the front door. “Please let Landon walk you. Oh, and be sure to ask Ben about Christmas dinner. I’d love to have you both over again.” She froze, her gaze cutting back on me. “Will you be here for Christmas, Landon?”
The uncertainty and desperation in her voice felt like a sucker punch to my gut. Mom had been happy to see me. There was no guilt or hurt in her eyes as she watched me, just love and relief. I’d been worried about my presence upsetting her and turning her world upside down, and hadn’t even allowed myself to consider that she’d be so happy to see me.
Regardless of the mistakes I’d made, this was still my mom, the woman who always went to bat for me and loved me unconditionally. I should have given her more credit. I nodded, slipping through the gate and hurrying to catch up to Mercy. “Yeah. I don’t fly out until January thirty-first.”
Mom’s eyes widened. “You’ll be home for the holidays? What wonderful news! We’ll have a big Christmas dinner. It will be perfect!”
Mercy smiled back, but her eyes were hard and her lips were tight. “Have a good weekend, Beth.”
Mom’s brow furrowed. “You’re still coming for dinner Sunday night, right?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Maybe I should give you and Landon space and time to reconnect.”
“Nonsense. I look forward to our Sunday dinners every week. I can’t wait to try your cobbler.”
Nodding, Mercy dropped her gaze. “I’ll see you Sunday.” Waving goodbye to my mom, she turned, resuming her trek.
“I’ll be right back,” I told Mom, following Mercy.
Even in heels Mercy was almost a foot shorter than me, but she had one hell of a long stride. I had to lengthen my steps to keep up.
“So, did you go to West Seattle High?” I asked, trying to strike up a conversation.
“Yep.”
“Me too.” I didn’t recognize Mercy, which was strange since there were only about a thousand kids attending that school when I was there. Surely a girl who looked like Mercy would have stuck out. “What year did you graduate?”
“Twenty-thirteen.”
“Twenty-eleven, here,” I said, even though she didn’t ask. “I had some Running Start classes my junior and senior years, though, so I wasn’t on campus much when you were at the school.”
No response.
I tried to strike up conversation again. “How long have you been at the preschool?”
She flashed me an annoyed look before focusing on the road again. “Why do you ask?”
Surprised by her tone, I replied, “You and my mom are obviously close, so I’m trying to get to know you.” Which wasn’t exactly true. Mercy was alluring and interesting all on her own. When she spoke to my mom, her face was warm and inviting, lit up like a campfire, but to me, she was frigid and distant. Something inside me wanted to warm myself beside her, but the icy daggers she kept glaring at me kept me at a distance.
“Why does it matter to you?”
“I don’t know. That’s what people do. They talk and get to know each other. Did I do something to piss you off?”
She stopped walking and turned to face me. I caught a whiff of vanilla and jasmine; her scent was soft and sweet, nothing like the glare she gave me as she folded her arms across her chest, still clutching the umbrella. “Where have you been for the past seven years, Landon?”
