Especially if this was all she knew.
“Yeah. She was upset I was doing it. Told me not to waste my money, that she’d be fine. But I told her it was for me too. I needed something else when I was done at the fire department. I plan on only putting in my twenty years and moving on.”
“Thinking of your future.”
“Your family isn’t the only one who wants to have some security. Not sure if owning a pub is the way to go, but I’m going to try.”
“I’m positive you can make it grow even more. Do you mind still talking about your mother?”
“Not much to say,” he said, shrugging. “She was detached. I was just another person in the house when she showed up. I don’t remember her being a mother to me. Not like you’d think.”
“Even when she wasn’t doing drugs?”
He laughed. Not a funny sound. “Jocelyn, she was always drunk or high. I don’t remember a time she wasn’t. It’s not the life you know or can even imagine.”
She moved over and pulled him into her arms. “And people knew that about her and judged you?”
“Yes. They all thought I’d end up just like her. My grandmother never did drugs.”
“Didn’t you get suspended for doing drugs once at school?” she asked. “I remember there being talk about a picture of you smoking weed.”
He laughed. “There was a picture of me smoking what looked like a joint, but it was lavender.”
“Lavender?” she asked. She wanted to laugh but didn’t. Wanted to even say he was pulling her leg.
“Yes. My grandmother doesn’t smoke or do drugs, but she’s always had headaches and needed to chill after her shifts. Someone told her about smoking lavender. It worked. She let me try it. You’re just kind of puffing it like a cigar and having it around you to inhale the scent.”
“Like incense.”
“Pretty much. Did I smoke cigarettes when I was younger? Yep. I did. I cut out that habit after school.”
“Good thing, because it’s not very sexy, nor do I want to kiss an ashtray. Do you still smoke lavender?”
He snorted. “No. I have it in the house. Oils in machines or spritzing it on pillows. It helps with sleeping. Or maybe it’s in my mind, but I still do it.”
“I’ve never had a problem sleeping. I’ll have to try it to relax me though. Or I can try it at your place some night if you ever bring me there.”
It hadn’t come up yet and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he was so used to leaving when he was done with a woman.
Just more proof where she stood.
“We can,” he said. “My place isn’t that big. Not like here.”
“It’s still your place. How many rooms do you have?”
“Two,” he said. “One is small, more like an office now. I’m not home much, as you know.”
“I got it.” She turned and pulled their dinner out of the oven. “You were thirteen when your mother passed.”
“She overdosed,” he said. “Nothing pretty about it. She’d been gone a few weeks. Nothing new there. The cops came to the door one day. My grandmother knew. I remember being in the kitchen eating and her asking where they had found my mother. That’s it. She opened the door, saw them, and asked that question.”
Jocelyn couldn’t imagine just waiting for that call or knock to show up on your doorstep one day.
“It had to be so hard.”
“No,” he said. “Don’t confuse that either. Jocelyn, she wasn’t a mother to me. She was an incubator. She was just someone who caused havoc in the house when she showed up. But once she died, my grandmother had to scramble to get custody of me.”
“Did you have to go into foster care first?”
