Then, she says, “Me too, Lacey.”
Mom takes Jasper’s 4Runner,which she, apparently, knows how to drive, down into town and returns with a car full of groceries.
“Sit here while I get dinner ready,” she says, and I return to the counter. She chops and dices, working her way through an onion, then a carrot, making the chicken and potato soup I grew up on. I sip on tea and we talk.
It turns out, my mom has been going through her own stuff after Jasper’s death and seeing a therapist to work through it. Afterour phone call, she realized that the counselor was right: she had been pushing me too hard, transposing her need for security and success onto me.
We laugh about my intensity in high school and how angry she was when I decided to go into game design instead of something more lucrative and stable, like medicine or law.
“I never meant for it to be like this,” she says, shaking her head and throwing the onions and garlic into a pot. The oil is already hot, and the vegetables sizzle when they hit the pan. It smells heavenly. “Sometimes, it’s like… time keeps passing, and you change so slowly you don’t realize you’re doing it at all. By the time I understood what was happening, it was too late. I’d ingrained thatpush, push, pushnature in myself, and it was the first thing I reached for when parenting you.”
“It’s not all bad,” I admit, shrugging and grinning at her when she turns to meet my eye. “Wouldn’t have been the youngest lead at Gaia without all that pushing.”
She laughs, then lifts the cutting board and scrapes the chicken into the pot. It sizzles when it hits the oil, just like the onions and garlic did.
The moment the smell of the chicken hits the air, I have to clap my hand over my mouth and run to the bathroom. A moment later, my mom is there, holding my hair back, rubbing my shoulders, and handing me a washcloth when it’s over.
“What was that?” she asks, concern lacing her features. “Are you sick?”
I shake my head, then shrug. In the kitchen, I can hear the food sizzling away, but I can’t even think about going back in there right now. “I don’t know. I thought at first that it was, like…heartbreak?” For some reason, I flush, admitting this. With everything we’ve talked about, I shouldn’t be shy about what happened with Max. “But this whole week, I haven’t been able to eat meat. Or anything really. I should have told you…”
I trail off at the look on my mother’s face, and in an instant, I know.
I’ve been so stupid not to see it.
“Oh my God,” I mutter, feeling lightheaded again.
This is exactly what she warned me about. And now here I am, in the same situation as her all these years later. She’s going to be furious with me. She’s going to leave.
But she doesn’t. With one hand on my shoulder and the other around my waist, she walks me to the couch and has me sit.
“Don’t get up,” she says, grabbing her keys and looking at me intently, “until I come back with the test.”
I nod and look up at the ceiling so I won’t cry. Just before she reaches the door, my mom turns back to me.
“Lacey?”
“Yeah?” I croak, turning to her, some of the tears leaking through.
She takes a breath, grips her keys in her hand, and says, “I love you. And we are talking about that man when I get back.”
CHAPTER 26
MAX
The unfortunate side effect of using so much glass at the workshop is that I have to special-order more through Smythe Hardware.
In Low Pines, the sun is shining, and downtown is flooded with tourists all bustling in and out of the shops. Everything is decorated for Halloween, cobwebs hanging in windows and lights flashing on roofs. The people here take the holiday seriously.
Luckily, the hardware store must not seem like that much fun to visit, because it’s mostly empty when I push inside, the little bell dinging over my head. It smells like lumber and motor oil, and that, at least, is somewhat comforting, even if I’m dreading this.
Even though I don’t want to come here, I have to.
My only other choice is Warren, and I can’t stomach the thought of facing him again. Glass blowing has been the only thing that’s been able to keep my mind off Lacey, keep me from driving up to her cabin and undoing what I did.
Even though I know it’s best for both of us. I don’t want to keep her from her life, and I’ve known this entire time that I was only going to get hurt. I knew I should have avoided the whole situation.
This is me facing the consequences of my actions.
