She stays with me until I’m ready to get up, get dressed, and head out. When we get back to the apartment after, I lock myself in the bathroom, fill up the tub and soak in the warm water. Idon’t bother wiping away my tears when they streak down to the corners of my mouth. I lie there as if letting them go will mend the cracks in my heart and glue them back together.
It doesn’t.
“This isthe best mac and cheese I think I’ve ever eaten,” Olive chirps from her place at the table. She stabs a piece of lobster meat and holds it up for Mom and me to see. “Look at this. Whoever thought of adding seafood to a delicacy such as this cheesy goodness is a freaking genius.”
“I didn’t know you ate lobster,” Mom remarks across from me. Her hair is pulled back, and she dabs her napkin on her lips. She ordered a salad big enough to feed a family of four and is already done.
“I didn’t until a friend had me try some when I moved to Florida. Been hooked ever since.”
I roll my eyes at her even though there’s a smile on my face. It was Olive’s idea for us to get out and have lunch with Mom. She wanted the extra girl time before heading south after break, which is fast approaching.
The strip isn’t overly packed since it’s the middle of winter and most tourists book hotels in the warmer summer months. Before we sat down to eat at one of the more upscale restaurants along the mile-long shopping strip, we walked around for a bit, and it was nice, not bumping into elbows at every turn.
Mom reaches her hand across the table and clasps mine in hers. “Aren’t you hungry, Violet?”
I glance down at my plate and the way my fork has gotten quite good at pushing my steak and vegetables in circles. Ichewed through a few pieces, and while being out and about has helped my mood some, my stomach still boycotts the idea of wanting to process more than a handful of bites.
I sense Olive’s stare from where she sits, hesitating on speaking for me.
A stinging sensation collects at the corner of my eyes. When I don’t answer, Mom tries again. “Violet, honey, what’s the matter?”
My heart, which was content a minute ago, speeds to a pace I can’t calm on my own. For the longest time, I didn’t understand where Mom came from when she preached about love being endless. I thought she was ridiculous, holding onto a silly little phrase that made her look like a doormat, but with her looking at me the way she is and with thoughts of Colson in my head, I wonder if maybe she wasn’t that far off at all.
Maybe loveisendless, knowing no bounds, considering the lengths I’d go for the man who has my heart, yet continues to push me away.
It’s the way her eyes fill with concern on my behalf that makes the emotion bubble up the back of my throat. I try to clear it away and tell her nothing is wrong, but then I glance over at Olive. She mirrors Mom’s expression, one filled with limitless love and care. And I know there’s no way I’ll be able to keep the hurt at bay.
“I—”
“Violet, it’s okay, we’re here for you,” Olive reassures in a soft voice, forgetting about her lobster mac and cheese.
I lick my lips and squeeze my eyes shut. The smell of Olive’s food sneaks into my nostrils, making my stomach even more unhappy than it already is.
Mom’s gaze shifts to Olive, and I see the questions in her eyes.What’s going on with your sister?
I bite the bullet, knowing it may just be inevitable to keep the tears away in this cute little restaurant running parallel to the Sycamore River. “I met someone, but it didn’t work out. And I’m just…”
“Oh, honey,” Mom croons sadly, squeezing my hand all over again.
Olive moves to sit in the chair next to me. She tosses her hand over my shoulder and pulls me into a side hug.
“Why didn’t you mention it sooner?” Mom asks.
“Because…I haven’t been the greatest daughter,” I confess.And I found it hard coming to you when I wasn’t sure where we stood after Thanksgiving.
“I hold no grudges over what happened during Thanksgiving break. I just want you to be okay. Dad said you two spoke about things during Christmas. I didn’t bring it up, because I didn’t want to resurrect something that was already laid to rest.”
I nod, understanding where she’s coming from. It’s not like she was the one who had to apologize for her behavior. I was the one who turned into a brat and stormed out that evening.
I manage a thankful smile. If she weren’t so forgiving, I don’t know what I’d do. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Always, sweetie. Now, what’s going on with you and this boy you met?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Surely not too complicated to work it out?” Mom questions, and I love that she does. I love that instead of judging Colson without meeting him, she’s giving him the benefit of the doubt and not assuming the absolute worst of him. She’s giving him a chance beyond what his flaws may be.
“There’s…” I take a minute to think about what I want to say. “He recently lost his mom, and it’s been difficult for him,” is what I decide to tell her, leaving out the bits that would probablymake her head spin. It’s not too much, but enough for her to know that things are rocky.
