Cora
Present Day
“Yodeler,”mymomsmiles,laying the last wood tile on the Scrabble board. “Triple word score.”
“You were holding back,” I narrow my eyes on her.
It’s been six weeks since the hearing. Six weeks of finding a new normal now that the lawsuit is out of my way. Now that I’ve been giving back all the work I snatched from my employees. Now that I’ve been living with Marco and Jay.
Before them, I was living in misery and grief. Stressed to the max and unable to give up control.Now I’m actually talking about my struggles, both with my partners and with Dr. Zenner once a week. The before and after change of my life and mental health is significant to say the least.
Just being able to come visit my mom without the nagging feeling that I should also be working has been monumental. The time I spend with her is so much richer for it.
“How can you hold back in Scrabble?” mom asks.
“I don’t know… but you manage.”
“You’re just salty because I whooped you,” she smirks, collecting the tiles from the board and placing them in the drawstring bag.
I look over at a family visiting their grandmother and smile. A man and woman with their two young kids sit and color with a woman I know as Mary Elizabeth.
Mom follows my stare. “Do you have kids?”
I keep my eyes trained on the family, but answer her calmly. “Yes. One. But she passed away before she was born.”
I take a deep breath.
That’s a first.
I just said that.
I just said that without breaking down.
Mom’s hand covers mine as pride fills my soul. “I’m so sorry. That’s really hard to go through.”
I finally look back at her sweet, empathetic expression. “It is. Thank you, Connie.”
Just then, Glenn catches my eye as he walks into the lounge holding another bouquet of flowers and looking around. I smile and tilt my head over to him. “Looks like Glenn is on a mission.”
He spots us, and my mom’s cheeks turn red. “Oh, stop,” she hushes me. “He already sat with me at breakfast today.”
“In your room?” I exclaim softly.
She gasps. “No. In the café. I don’t know if my husband is going to like him when he shows up.”
Glenn approaches the table as I quickly pack up and whisper to my mom with a wink, “It’s okay. No harm in talking with a good looking man—Hi, Glenn!”
“Hello, Cora. Hello, Connie. May I sit with you?”
“Yes, you may,” I rush to get out before mom can argue. “But I have to go to my boyfriend's birthday party now. Have a great time, bye!” I sing, practically galloping away from them, snickering.
Thirty minutes later, I’m walking into our home, birthday cake in hand from a bakery in the neighborhood. “I’m back,” I call, flinging off my shoes in the foyer.
Music is already playing even though guests won’t arrive for another half hour. I walk toward the kitchen to see my men slow dancing in the galley. It’s unseasonably warm for mid-March, so both of them are wearing shorts, Jay in a soft, white button-down polo, and Marco in a white t-shirt and thin denim short-sleeve.
Mmm. Those thighs should be illegal.
“May I cut in?” I ask, setting the cake box down on the counter. Marco opens his arms in invitation and I join their sway.
