“I don’t need telling what April is,” I hissed, spinning around. Smokey wore a huge grin on his face. “Dude, I dated her long enough to understand who and what April is. What do you think you know?”
“Wanna know? You still care for her, shit, I’d even say you’re in love with the woman. But you’ll deny that until your dying day.”
“Smokey, shut up. You’ve got nothing,” I retorted.
Smokey laughed, amused as he banged his glass on the bar top. “Get me another beer, prospect.”
I turned and grabbed Smokey’s glass and poured him one from the tap. As Smokey took it, he held my eyes.
“Don’t lose the love of your life because of some misguided notion. That’s a fool’s route.”
Didn’t I know that!
???
“Hey!” Mom called as I entered the house. I sniffed appreciatively; Mom was making pot roast.
“In here, son,” Dad said from the lounge. No doubt he had the game on. I stuck my head in and said hi before heading into the kitchen. Mom was at the oven, busy checking the food, and I placed the flowers and the bottle of wine on the worktop. She turned and saw them, smiling, but it faded as she stared at me.
“You okay, Mom?”
“No. We crossed paths with April, Dad and me. We were at the supermarket, and she bumped into us with her cart.”
The pain in Mom’s voice was almost tangible.
“April say anything?” I forced myself to ask.
“No. She fled when I mentioned catching up with her. She’s different and yet the same. April was beautiful, and she’s grown into her promise. Those piercings and the tattoos didn’t detract from her looks,” Mom said.
“Yeah, she’s still an eye-catcher,” I replied for lack of anything else to say.
“Stone, I miss her so much. April was family.”
Upset because Mom was, I moved around the counter and stood in front of her. Mom fell into my embrace, and I hugged her tightly as I rubbed her back.
“Sorry, son, I can’t help but think sometimes about what might have been if you hadn’t…” Mom swallowed hard.
“Fucked up and broke her heart? You’re not alone, Mom. But it had to happen, April needed to grow,” I muttered before realising what I’d said.
Mom stiffened, and I realised my mistake.
“What do you mean?”
“Let it go, Mom.”
“Stone Ryan, what aren’t you telling me?” she demanded.
“Mom, stop. The past can’t be changed.”
“Stan!” Mom yelled, and I released her and stepped back. Crap. Mom resembled a bloodhound when she scented that something was wrong or that she was being lied to.
“What now?” Dad asked resigned as he entered. He put the wine in the fridge and pulled out two bottles of beer.
“Stone’s hiding shit about April,” Mom accused.
Dad sent me a glower. Yup, I’d messed up. Mom’s eyes narrowed.
“What did you do apart from the obvious?” she demanded.
