For a few minutes, we stayed there, quietly chewing, quietly avoiding.
Then her voice broke through again, softer this time. “This is delicious, Luna. Like my mom’s, but...different. Better.”
My head snapped up, surprised. Compliments like that didn’t come easily from my mother.
“It’s Gran’s recipe, but I added a pinch of tarragon,” I said, my voice steady but careful. “It complements the chicken.”
She chewed thoughtfully, then nodded. “I like it.”
Okaaay…
But just when I thought we might actually finish the meal in peace, Mom spoke again. “It was my idea for Babs not to mention we were friends. I wish you wouldn’t blame her.”
My hand froze midair, my fork hovering above the plate.
“I knew you were terribly unhappy, and I worry,” she continued in a way that somehow made it worse. “I knew if you found out one of my friends was on the tour, you wouldn’t go. But please, Babs was innocent for the most part. She wanted to introduce herself properly before the bus even left Denver.”
My throat burned. I set the fork down.
“But if she had, then you wouldn’t have had a spy, would you? You wouldn’t have had someone to report back on me.”
“Not report back,” she said, shifting. “I just wanted you to have someone…looking out for you.”
“I didn’t need anyone looking out for me, Mom. Believe it or not, I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
She pinned her stare on me, her jaw tightening in that stubborn, familiar way—Ashley’s way, just older and harder.
Her hair was still sleek, the blond streaked with silver now. Mom carried herself tall, a few inches taller than either of her daughters.
But the eyes?
Hazel. Same as mine and Ashley’s.
And right now, they held a look I knew far too well.
“You were unraveling,” she said, as though it excused what she’d done. “Like you did after Ted broke up with you.”
“That was high school!” I snapped.
“And you missed a full week of classes.” Her voice sharpened. “You let your emotions lead you, Luna. You always have. Everything that happened with Leo on the show… You have to admit, it was…unhinged.”
The word hit like a slap.
“That trip was supposed to give you space. Time to reflect.” She shifted again, “The last thing I wanted was for you to dive into another relationship.”
I was absolutely not going to discuss Noah with her.
I’d only taken a couple bites of my chicken salad, but I didn’t care. “I have to go,” I said, grabbing my keys. “I have a meeting with my lawyer.”
When I pushed back from the table, she opened her mouth—maybe to apologize, maybe to justify herself—but I didn’t wait to find out.
My exit would’ve made more of an impact if I weren’t stuck driving off in her car, but Leo and I had shared a vehicle. Yet another mistake I’d have to fix.
One more thing to untangle.
One more thing I’d do on my own.
TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS
