The rain poured down harder now, soaking both Hansen and me as we raced—or hobbled—across the parking lot and got into the safety of the dry truck. Hansen turned on the engine and blasted the heat, pulling out so he could drive me back to my mother’s house.
“Hey,” I said as he drove. “I know I give you a lot of shit sometimes, but I appreciate you, okay? This is just, well, it’s shitty.”
Hansen smiled at this, resting his free hand in front of the heater vent. “It is shitty,” he agreed. “But I need you back at that firehouse and standing up there with me when I marry Paisley. And the only way that’s going to happen is if you work hard and get better, man.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Waving him off, I gritted my teeth as more pain simmered up and down my leg. I was slightly glad that PT hadn’t been today … I wasn’t sure if my knee could have handled it.
Hansen dropped me off at Nina’s house before pulling away, waving over his shoulder as his little truck vanished around the corner. My mother was cooking in the kitchen when I stepped inside, and I hobbled through the door, kicking off my shoes before making my way into the kitchen to join her.
“It smells good, Mamma,” I said, limping across the floor to kiss her head before taking a seat at the table. A basket of warm rolls sat in the middle of the table, and I reached out to snag one, salivating.
“Hands off, figlio,” Nina snapped, slapping my hand away. “Wait for the rest. How was your appointment?”
“It sucked,” I told her, drawing a stern look from my mother. “It was a head therapy session today and not a physical therapy session.”
When my mother didn’t automatically say anything to this, I focused my gaze on her with a glare. “Did you already know that?” I demanded. “Did you know they wanted to make me see a shrink?”
My mother finished setting the table before she spoke, putting an enormous pot of hot spaghetti in the center of the table before sitting down to dish us both up.
“I knew,” she said. “Of course I did. I’m your mother.”
“Just not enough of one to tell me, right?” I grumbled, sprinkling some parmesan cheese on the sauce.
“Don’t take that tone with me,” Nina warned. “Would you have gone had you known?”
“No.”
“Well, that’s why no one told you.” My mother chewed her food slowly, watching me from across the table. “Did it go okay?”
“It was fine,” I mumbled, knowing that at this point, there was no reason to fight it anymore. “We didn’t talk about much, though. That’s how I liked it.”
“That defies the point, sweetheart,” Nina said, shaking her head at me. “It’s good to talk to someone. I think it would do you good.”
“I—I saw someone while I was there,” I said, knowing that if I could talk about this particular person with anybody, it was my mother.
“Who did you see?” she asked, getting up to get the milk out of the fridge and two cups for us.
“Well, I thought I saw someone anyway,” I muttered, focusing on the noodles on my plate. “It couldn’t have been her.”
“Couldn’t have been who?”
“Peyton,” I said quietly. “Peyton Blake.”
“Peyton,” my mother repeated. “Jesus, Korbin, did you really see Peyton?”
“It’s impossible, right?” I said, shaking my head. “She wouldn’t be here. Last I heard, she was doing really well in Denver.”
“Yes, that’s what I heard as well,” Nina said, reaching for a second roll. “But to be fair, I haven’t spoken to Susan in quite some time. Maybe something has changed.”
“You don’t think Peyton would have called me or something?” I asked and then regretted it immediately. My mother abandoned her food to look at me again, eyebrows shooting straight up.
“I love you, son, but what you did five years ago to that woman makes me think she has no reason to call you up, no matter where she may or may not be.”
“Thanks, Ma.”
“Am I wrong?”
“Are you ever?”
