She had signed off because she didn’t know how to respond to Reese’s declaration of love. It was the first time he’d admitted he loved her. Then she recalled Parker telling her Reese had confessed to him that he was falling in love with her. It was one thing to tell his cousin and another to admit it to her. But why in a text message?
Perhaps she was overthinking, and whenever she did that, it usually foretold a problem for Cherie. Why couldn’t she just accept that the man loved her and leave it at that? Maybe she hadn’t turned the corner in her life and completely exorcised the years she’d spent with Weylin, because in her mind she’d continued to make comparisons between the two men. However, she had to admit it wasn’t easy to wipe away fifteen years of her life like erasing what had been written on chalkboard. And what had been written was a chronological timeline of her life that had begun at fifteen and ended abruptly at twenty-nine.
Cherie knew she would never escape her past until she told Reese everything. But she would wait until after her mother returned to Connecticut to tell him everything.
* * *
Cherie sat between Reese’s outstretched legs on the chaise in the family room, watching a cable news channel. He’d stopped by the café earlier that afternoon to pick up dinner. “Have you planned what you want to do with your mother while she’s here?”
“Not yet. We have a book club meeting in a couple of weeks, and hopefully she’ll still be here for that.”
“Why do you say hopefully?” Reese asked.
“I’m praying my mother will like Coates Island enough for her to decide to stay.”
Reese rested both hands on her belly. “Well, if she does decide to stay, you have more than enough room in this house for her to live with you.”
Cherie glanced over her shoulder at him. “That’s not going to happen.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
“Because my mother likes being independent. I told her that, if she did move, I would subsidize a rental or even buy her a condo.” She felt the tension in Reese’s body with her pronouncement.
“You have it like that?”
“If you’re talking about money, then yes. I didn’t earn a lot of money when I worked for the childcare center, but I have a sixth sense when it comes to investing.” Cherie didn’t want to tell Reese she hadn’t invested nearly fifteen years of her life in a man without earning some dividends. “I’m not saying I’m wealthy, but I can admit that I am quite comfortable.”
He smiled. “You never cease to amaze me.”
“Would I continue to amaze you if I were predictable?”
“Nah! Being predictable translates into boring.”
It was Cherie’s turn to freeze when she heard the news correspondent mention Weylin’s name. Her eyes were glued to the screen as the candidate who had been chosen by his party to challenge the incumbent president announced that the woman he’d selected as his running mate had dropped out and was being replaced by William Weylin Campbell, the immensely popular and charismatic representative from Connecticut. Cherie prayed that Reese couldn’t detect the rapid pumping of her heart against his arm.
“Do you know him?”
“Yes.” The single word came out breathless, and she knew she had to pull it together and quickly. “We were at Yale together and shared some of the same classes. When he first ran for elected office, I and some of our other classmates worked as volunteers for his campaign, working the phones and mailing out campaign literature.”
“There’s no doubt he’ll get the female vote, because he looks a lot like Brad Pitt.”
Cherie wanted tell Reese that girls fawned over him because of his marked resemblance to the man twice voted Sexiest Man Alive. Weylin was the trifecta: looks, brains, and money. “He’s done a lot for his constituents.”
“Do you think he has a chance of becoming vice president?”
“I don’t know, Reese. That all depends on if his running mate can win the presidency.”
“Do you plan to vote for them?”
“Of course.”
“Talk about loyalty.”
Cherie detected some cynicism in the three words and wondered if he suspected she would vote for Weylin because they had history. Weylin running for national office didn’t bother her; she doubted that his opponent would be able to uncover anything about his son because it had been a closed adoption, and Michelle had been successful in shielding her son from public scrutiny.
“He was a friend and classmate, Reese, so why shouldn’t I be loyal?”
“You’re right, bae. I suppose there will be no sleepovers while your mother’s here,” he said, changing the topic of conversation.
