“No, they don’t.” She choked back tears, surprised and touched by the connection she felt with this lady. “He loved to play cops and robbers and always insisted on being the cop so he could be the good guy. I think that’s part of the reason I went into my field. Sounds like a pretty silly reason to choose a career, doesn’t it?”
“No, love, not at all.” Stella left the room for a split second before returning with a box of tissues. “You and Rex are good for each other. That settled look in his eyes tonight, that’s never been there.”
“He’s a good man.” Overcome with emotion, Monica wrapped herself in a hug. “I don’t deserve him.”
Dropping the spatula, Stella turned to her. “I love my son and he has a good heart, but he’s no saint. The fact is, none of us are. Only God is perfect, and the rest of us are imperfect souls in an imperfect world.”
“But I hurt him badly, simply because I was too scared to face the truth.”
“Love covers a multitude of sins.” A wistful expression came over Stella. “My late husband and I had some doozies in the way of fights over the years, and a weekly squabble or two. We both said and did things we later regretted, but forgiveness always reigned.”
“Rex speaks of his father very highly. You, too.”
“Cecil was an incredible man. I was blessed to have thirty years of marriage with him.” Stella blinked. “Thirty more wouldn’t have been enough, but God called him home, and I’ll see him again one day.
Monica gravitated toward her, regretting the months she’d wasted hiding from love. “Thank you.”
“It’s me who should be thanking you. You might not realize it, but you’re the reason he moved home. Falling for you stirred ideas of family and stability.” Stella’s features tightened in a weary expression which she promptly hid. “You’ll want to be near your family, I’m sure. It’s okay. I know, now, that Rex will stay close in spirit if not in distance.”
“I’m moving to Louisiana.” Saying it out loud to someone other than Rex made it real, and she took a second to catch her breath from the whoosh that voided her lungs. “It’s not all settled, but I’ll begin searching for a job and apartment this week.”
“You don’t have a place to stay?”
She shook her head. “Once I knew I was coming, it all happened so fast, but I know this is where I need to be.”
Stella flipped the potatoes and turned around with a wry grin on her face. “I have three empty bedrooms not being used. It might not be conventional to live with your boyfriend’s mother, but I’d sure would love the company if you wanted to stay here.”
A refusal rose to her lips, but she couldn’t get the words out. She liked Stella a lot and shared an immediate bond with her. Why not stay with her and get to know the lady who she hoped would be her future mother-in-law?
ChapterEleven
Monday morning brought more rain to south Louisiana. The short trek from his house to truck soaked him. He grabbed the towel he kept under his seat and wiped down his face, blotted the excess rain from his clothes. When he got to his mom’s, he’d rummage through his old closet for any left behind shirts to wear while he tossed this one into the dryer.
Two days ago, he never would have imagined the turn of events in his life. He’d not expected Monica to show up, he definitely hadn’t planned on her announcing a move to Louisiana, and he never would have foreseen her moving in with his mother.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It was unusual, but his mom and Monica had clicked, and that bolstered confidence in this new stage of their relationship.
A break in the rain came as he arrived at his mom’s. He dashed inside before the skies could open again. Monica and Stella sat at the table eating a late breakfast of cereal. He poured a bowl of raisin bran and joined them.
“After hearing all about it, I’m a little disappointed I missed the Sugarcane Festival,” admitted Monica. “I’d like to embrace the culture of my new home.”
Stella swallowed her bite of cereal and smiled. “This is South Louisiana. We have a different festival every weekend for everything under the sun.”
“What are some of the others?”
“Locally, we have the frog festival, omelet festival, crackling festival, just to name a few.” He ticked off his fingers as he named each. “In the spring you’ll see even more, including the music ones.”
“Can we go to them?” Homesickness flittered across Monica’s face. “Growing up, the big fall festival was the Apple Fest. I was the Gala Jr. Queen my senior year of high school.”
Rex covered his mouth to hide his smirk. “I can’t picture you in a beauty pageant.”
Her brow rose high and tight. “What are you saying?”
Realizing his faux pas, he attempted to smooth over the insult. “I didn’t mean you aren’t beautiful and shouldn’t be in one, only that it doesn’t strike me as in activity that would interest you.”
“I’ll have you know that it came with a five-hundred-dollar scholarship.” She broke out in a grin. “Which is theonlyreason I entered.”
A scratching at the back door caught his attention. “Did you hear that?”
