“This it?” Rowen asked, as if maybe he was worried we were in the wrong spot. Well, fuck, I wasn’t getting out, so maybe that was why he was looking at me like he was concerned again.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I grumbled, shoving open the door. “Mom’s car isn’t here. That’s weird. I wonder if Dad told her to go somewhere else. Dad’s isn’t here, either. He must be doing stuff for Sloan.” It took a second to get the seat belt off, and I tried to fling it away when I was finally free. I went to the front door and used my key to go inside, then made a beeline to the left through a short hallway decorated with family photos. Rowen hummed, as if he approved of the place, which made me happy, even though dread crawled up my spine simply from stepping foot in the house.
“Want me to get ye something going?” Rowen asked, and I shook my head as I opened the door on the white fridge and dragged out a carton of OJ. I chugged and began to feel better almost immediately, but then my stomach churned. I put the juice back in and pulled out a glass container that looked like it might be full of turkey.
“Score!” I cracked the lid open, then pulled a piece out and stuffed it into my mouth. Sage, thyme, and garlic burst on my tongue.
Rowen whistled as he came up behind me and snooped inside the fridge for a second before he shut the door. “Ye weren’t kidding. It’s crowded in there. Does she host dinner parties and such?” he asked.
Since I was feeling a little better, I liked that he was taking an interest in me—even if my mother wasn’t a topic I wanted to get stuck on. “She still cooks like we’re all home and everyone is going to walk through the door at six o’clock for dinner.” I rolled my eyes, crankiness crackling to life and making the hair on my arms stand on end, but my brain was more awake than it had been a few minutes ago. I kept munching, hoping the food would do its job without leaving me feeling like I had a hangover. “Dad tried to get her to stop doing that because it’s a waste, and she had such a fit on him that he quit asking her to cut back. It’s not like they can’t afford the food.” I shrugged. “Surprised she isn’t here, actually. We lucked out.” I grabbed another piece of turkey and took a huge bite.
“I suppose it must be difficult to move on when ye’re used to cooking for a whole brood,” Rowen said, and I wanted to tell him that wasn’t exactly the problem, but my mouth was full. He smiled and ran his hand over the clean pink quartz countertop. Mom liked basic colors, so the rest of the kitchen was white cupboards and walls, which always made it seem like one of those too nice houses from magazine covers. It all felt a little fake, unlike our house in the Hamptons. Our place was never really spotless like this because we lived in it and things didn’t have to be perfect.
The front door opened, and I froze, all at once regretting this stop. I shoved another piece of turkey in my mouth and tried to put the food back in the fridge at the same time, but Rowen frowned and held on to my elbow. “Ye need to eat.”
“Hello!” Mom called, sounding uncertain.
Rowen’s eyes widened as he stared at the part of the hallway we could see from the kitchen.
“Which one of my boys is here to visit me? Did you get a new car? You know your father doesn’t like those Lexuses. He says you should buy American. It’s insane that your father has us all up in the dead of night.” Mom came hustling into the kitchen, and I wanted to run out of the house as her attention landed on me and her eyes lit up. She looked nice, with her blonde hair hanging in ringlets around her head, and her blue eyes were sharp as she shot a glance down my body, as if checking for injuries. She was wearing one of those weird outfits that were all one piece and had short sleeves, even though it was cold outside, and the color matched her eyes.
“Fallon!” She ran over and hugged me around the container I was holding, and I sort of patted her with the side of my messy hand. She leaned back and gave me a wide smile, and I could see Rowen grinning out of the corner of my eye. Yeah, she looked harmless—even cute—but he would find out.
Mom turned toward him, and her expression soured, but then she spun back to me. “You’re home for a visit. I’ll cook. Your dad wouldn’t tell me what is going on. He never does. But I expected to have a house full of people at some point. I haven’t been able to sleep, so I ran to drop a few things off at the clothing donation box. It seemed like as good a time as any to do it.”
Rowen frowned as she totally ignored him, and I sighed. “No, Mom. I just needed to eat something fast. I’m not here to stay over.”
“Oh, it won’t take long.” She stepped back and waved a hand at me. “To think, during the fifteen minutes I run out to do an errand, my favorite boy shows up. Did I tell you about my painting group? They’re doing willow trees next week. What do you think about that? Would you like a painting for your room?”
“That would be lovely, Mrs. Maher,” Rowen said, stepping toward her with his hand out. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Rowen Shaughnessy. Delighted to finally meet ye.”
She pursed her lips and glanced up and down his body.
The anger from before that I’d chased away with food was back when she still didn’t say anything to him. I’d known how this meeting between her and anyone I was dating would go, if it ever happened, and I would’ve been pissed off about it no matter how I’d been feeling beforehand.
“What brought you to Rockaway?” she asked, whirling toward me with a smile.
“Work,” Rowen said before I could.
“I only came home because my sugar crashed.” I held up the container and took another bite. “Like I said, I needed to eat something. I forgot a snack.”
The second the words were out of my mouth I wanted to kick myself because Mom’s eyebrows dove and there was a gleam in her eyes like I’d just handed her a present. “We’ve talked about this.”
“Please don’t,” I said with a sigh.
“You need to come home. Is this one of the men you’ve been living with?” She shot a nasty look at Rowen. She knew goddamned well that he was one of my boyfriends, but she always pretended not to remember anyone’s name.
Rolling my eyes, I tried to eat faster. “You know he is, Mom,” I said around the food in my mouth, and both she and Rowen winced, which had me snickering.
“Mrs. Maher,” Rowen said, pulling out one of his best smiles. “I care a great deal for Fallon. I’ve told yer husband the same thing.” I didn’t miss how he really laid on his accent thicker than usual. I wasn’t sure if it was happening naturally because he was nervous or if he was trying to impress Mom, but I loved it. It was as tasty as the food.
Mom laughed and shook her head at him, and I caught a whiff of her cloying vanilla perfume. “I get that, but my son is ill and needs to be here. Why doesn’t anyone understand this but me?” There was a watery note in her tone, and I flinched. Either she would start yelling or crying if we kept talking about this.
Dropping the glass container onto the island with aclink, I snagged one of Mom’s dish towels and used it to wipe off my hands, which had her frowning at me for a new reason. “Mom, I stopped in because I fucked up. The house was close by, but I can take care of myself. I swear.”
She came over and grabbed my arms, shaking them while she tried to make me stare into her eyes. That had driven me crazy since I was a kid, and I opened my eyes wide until I knew they bugged, then stared at her way too close.
“Oh, stop that,” she said with a laugh. “What if you hadn’t been near the house?” She raised her eyebrows, as if she thought she had me and I would have to admit she was right.
