After dinner, they all cleaned up the kitchen. Luke ran upstairs to brush his teeth and get ready for bed.
“Lainey, is everything all right?” Her mother asked gently. “You’ve been quiet since you got home.”
“I’m just tired,” Lainey replied. “It was another rough day. One of the buildings was vandalized again. The police think it was just kids, but…”
“You don’t?”
She shook her head. “I want to believe that. However, I can’t stop thinking that Richard is behind this somehow.”
“Pffft. Richard!” Her mother rolled her eyes. “What a douchebag. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Lainey chuckled. “Mom. Tell me how you really feel.”
“He was no good from the moment you got involved with him,” her mother continued, folding her arms across her chest. “I just knew it from the start.”
“True,” Lainey sighed. Richard Cummings had taken more than her trust and confidence. He ruined her career. And her reputation. “He disappeared while I was trying to pick up the pieces he destroyed.”
She stared at the floor. “The worst part is, I really thought he was the one. He pretended to care about Luke. Took him out for ice cream, bought him toys, played the perfect step-in dad. And I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.” She shook her head from side to side. “I was such a fool.”
“Don’t ever say that,” her mother snapped. “This is all on him. You gave your heart to someone who didn’t deserve your love and respect. But let me tell you this. That bastard better never show his face around here. I will…” Her fists clenched, and she shook with anger. “I will bury his ass in the garden so fast and plant black dahlias over his grave and everyone will know what a shit he is.”
“Geez, Mom.” Lainey chuckled. “You’re scaring me. You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”
Her mom pursed her lips. “Sweetheart, I may be retired. I may look like a little old lady…” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “But when it comes to protecting my daughter and grandson? Watch out.”
“Mom, I love your enthusiasm for violence.” Lainey yawned. “But I’m tired, and I need to read Luke a story and get to bed. Are you staying or going?”
“I’m going.” Her mom stood, grabbing her purse. “But I just want to say I’m so proud of you. You’ve never backed down even though he made things so difficult for you.”
“Thanks, Mom. Although you’re making me out to be braver than I am.”
“Humph.” Her mother leaned in and kissed her cheek. “You’re raising that boy without a father. You held your head high when gossip swirled. You’ve built a new life here. That’s not just brave, Lainey. It’s warrior brave.”
Lainey blinked. Her throat tightened. Her mother had always been in her corner, but to think she was warrior brave. Humph.
Her mom straightened. “Anyway, I made a pan of lasagna. It’s in the fridge. Give Luke a kiss for me.” She paused at the door. “You all set with a sitter tomorrow night?”
“Yes, Zara will be here.”
“Great. Call me if you need anything.”
When the door clicked shut, the house was finally silent. Lainey leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. She didn’t feel like a warrior. She felt … tired. Just a woman patching her life together with duct tape and willpower.
However, tomorrow was a new day with new friends. And maybe that was enough for now.
Lainey walked upstairs to find Luke curled up in bed, the night-light on his nightstand softly glowing. He looked so much like his father. Her heart ached. Ached for the little boy who would never know him and for the man who was missing out on his son’s life.
“So, buddy,” she said, sitting on the edge. “What story should we read tonight?”
“The one about the dragons and knight,” he mumbled.
She picked up his favorite book from the nightstand and began to read about a brave dragon who was cast out and proved his courage over and over. Not with anger but with kindness.
And maybe that’s what bravery really was. It wasn’t loud. It didn’t hide. It showed up and was present. Unshaken in its belief in right and wrong.
Just like she did. Even on the days she didn’t feel brave at all.
Lainey looked down at Luke as his eyes fluttered closed.
