“I’m not sure either. It seems like he wants to keep me in the spotlight, though I’m not sure why. If he keeps it up, he might start digging into your past. Otherwise he’s going to run out of material pretty quick. Not that he hasn’t shown a willingness to make shit up.” I forced myself to meet Noah’s eyes. “I really am sorry. For everything.”
He studied me for a moment. Long enough for me to be unsure of what he was getting ready to say. Maybe that he was sorry too. That he shouldn’t have ever gotten involved with a Morgan. That I was so much more trouble than I was worth, especially when I wasn’t even putting out. “Let’s go see my mom.”
I blinked.
I was losing my mind. Or at least my hearing. “I’m sorry, what?”
He grinned then. “My mom. Let’s go see her.”
“Now? As in right now?”
“Yeah. Right now. I’m not due in to work till noon. We’ve got plenty of time.”
“Why?”
“Because I want you to meet my mom.”
“But right now?”
His look was half-frustrated and half-indulgent. “Yes, Randall, right now. And I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe because if this keeps getting bigger and my name gets pulled into it more, she might find out about all of this, despite being a recluse. And I don’t want any of this to be her first impression of you. I want her to see you. The real Randall Morgan. The man I love.”
It seemed I wasn’t the only one losing my mind. “Come on, Noah. Get serious. There’s no way you still want to do this with me. Not with all of this shit happening. Not with you getting pulled into it. That article this morning? What if that is just the tip of the iceberg? A warning of sorts? That you’ll get pulled down too? You need to get away from me as fast as you can.”
He smacked the trim around the door with the palm of his hand, making me jump. I’d never seen the expression on his face or heard that sharpness in his tone before. “You know what, Randall? You know what I’m sick of?” He gestured between us. “This. That you keep pushing me away and expecting me to leave. That you think I’m weak enough that I can claim to believe you’re the one I’m meant for, then run off like a little chicken bitch.”
“I don’t think you’re weak. I just don’t want—”
“Then knock it off. All right?” He took a step toward me, looking like he was either going to hit me or kiss me. He did neither. “Enough. We’re in this. And I’m not leaving. If you are looking for a way out, then walk out the door on your own and quit trying to make it look like something I want. Are you wanting out of this?”
I shook my head.
“Good. Then no more. Shut up about it being too much for me. Give me some goddammed credit.” He turned and stomped out of the kitchen. “And get dressed. We’re going to see my mom. And we’re stopping by McDonald’s for breakfast. A McMuffin sounds perfect. I need some fucking grease.”
RUTH LOOKEDold. Much older than her sixty-one years. She also looked terrified. Like she was meeting the devil.
And that was without her knowing about all the things being said about me.
Despite her obvious fear, she held out her hand and attempted a smile. “Welcome to my home, Randall. It’s nice to see you again. Noah has said so many wonderful things about you.” Her voice sounded as weak as her grip.
I released her hand and took my place beside Noah.
She and I stared at each other awkwardly.
“Well, come on. Let’s sit down.” Noah led the way toward a threadbare seating area in front of a TV.
While I was trying to decide if I should follow Noah or wait for her to go first, she made the decision for me and headed toward the large armchair closest to us.
The apartment wasn’t much better than Noah’s. Her furniture also looked like it had come from Goodwill, and not a nice one. More knickknacks were scattered around on shelves and such, and more pictures, so it felt homier than Noah’s apartment, but still it was a bit depressing. I couldn’t imagine her life. Being a recluse was one thing, but being stuck in this space all day? It looked like someone who was caught in a dark depression. Of course, according to Noah, that was exactly where his mom was stuck.
We barely sat down before Noah stood back up. “I’m going to go put on a pot of hot tea.” He glanced at me. “Mom likes Earl Grey in the mornings. Does that work for you?”
“Sure. Thanks.” I tried to scream at him with my eyes not to leave, but he either didn’t notice or simply ignored it. Maybe I was getting punished. We hadn’t said much since his outburst in the kitchen.
The light clatter Noah made in the kitchen drifted in the air between his mother and me. Neither of us knew what to say. Ruth would look at me momentarily, and then her gaze would dart away.
Goodness. This was Noah’s mom. What was wrong with me? I grew up being able to schmooze and talk with anyone. Was I going to fall over dead trying to talk to this little frail lady?
“My, um, mom was speaking of you the other night.” I attempted a smile. “She was saying how much it meant to her that you were always kind when she married my dad.”
