“I’m busy, Mom. I own three restaurants.”
“Too busy for love?” she asks. “See, that’s the problem with you kids. You put all your time and energy into work. You’re going to work your whole life. But what’s the point if you don’t have someone to spend it with? You don’t get as many years as you think, Ash.”
“I know,” I say, and my smile slips a little. Then, and I don’t know why, I ask her a question. “Do you remember Harper St. James?”
“I remember the St. James’s, yes. The parents were a hot mess. Him with his drinking and her with the drugs. Harper was their daughter, right? And Jaylen.”
“Jaylen and I are still best friends,” I say.
“Yes, I remember,” she nods. “Harper was a sweet girl. Salty too. I liked that about her. What is she up to these days?”
“She almost got married.”
“Almost?”
“They weren’t right for each other. He was an ass.”
“Hmm,” she nods, “Good thing it was an almost then.”
Yeah. Good thing.
“You know, your father was ten years older than me,” she says.
“Yes, I know.”
“Boy, did my parents have an aneurysm when I told them I was going with a guy who was almost thirty! I was 19, though. Nothing illegal about it,” she says with a stubborn smile.
I smile, wondering where this came from or where it’s going.
“I knew he was the one for me. It didn’t matter to me what our families thought. Or even what friends or co-workers thought. We were in love. We followed our hearts. That’s important, Ash. No matter what you choose to do, or who you choose to be with. You must always follow your heart.”
I nod, looking over at my mom. Her expression is softening a little. Her eyes are glassy as she stares at nothing in particular.
“Yes. Follow your heart,” she says hollowly. Then, one moment later, she looks over at me, blinking several times. “Where are we?” she asks.
“The gardens. At White Oak,” I remind her.
“Oh. I want to go back to my room,” she says. I stand up, holding my hand out to help her. We take a few steps, and she looks around then over at me.
“When did you get here?” she asks.
“A while ago,” I say.
“Oh. Where is Louis?” she asks, and my heart clenches in my chest.
“Dad is gone, Mom,” I say.
“Oh.”
Chapter 23
Harper
Google defines Second Base as:
Touching or petting above the waist. In some contexts, it may refer to touching any erogenous zones through the clothes. (i.e., not actually touching the skin).
I seem to have a lot of time on my hands. Enough time to properly educate myself on the bases of dating. A ridiculous system, in my opinion, but one I need to understand as of late.
