“Nice to meet you, Mark.”False. It’s not at all nice to meet someone who is part of the problem and making my girl feel the way she visibly does.
“Sorry, but I have to ask the obvious question here,” her mom says, breaking the silence that lingered a little too long for the three of them to feel comfortable. I, on the other hand, am reveling in it. “It’s the…elephantin the room, really.” She shakes her head as her eyes drink in whatever part of me she can see, nibbling at her bottom lip. I shudder.
“Mom…” Jenna’s voice is low, a whisper and a plea. I think I detect a slight crack in her voice, too.
“What is a man likeyoudoing with a girl like…well,her?” Her mom swallows hard. Jenna rarely speaks about her mom. But since she got back from California, I already knew she wasn’t exaggerating. I see it all firsthand now. “No offense,” she says quickly, and Jenna rolls her eyes, quickly wiping away a tear that managed to escape and roll down her cheek.
“Offense taken,” she mutters under her breath for only me to hear, and I chuckle next to her ear before placing another soft kiss on her temple.
I take my arm off the back rest, and lock my fingers through hers before I clear my throat. “I think you’ve got it wrong,” I say, and I see her mom’s shoulders relax, probably hoping I’m about to tell her it’s all a big lie and that she’s right. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. “What you should be asking is how someone like Jenna wound up with someone likeme. A man who lives in a dingy apartment above a bar. The same man whose clothes remain in a vacuum sealed bag to keep the stench of cigarette and alcohol from inevitably seeping into the cotton. The man who can never hold down a job, or has credit card debt through the roof,” I say, and Jenna brings her hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh.
“I just meant—”
“I know what you meant,Becky. And I also know you’re old enough to understand right from wrong. But considering your daughter is thirty-one, and you still pick on her every single chance you get, says a lot more about your character than it does hers.” I take a sip of Jenna’s coffee before placing it back down onto the table.
“You’re out of line, here, son.” Mark reaches for Becky’s hand, but she shoo’s it off while her lip wobbles.
“And who are you again?” I ask, rising from the booth, hand stretched for Jenna to take, and she does. “Because this girl beside me owes neither of you a damn thing.” Jenna stands next to me. “Youshould consider yourself lucky to have a daughter like Jenna—beautiful in every single way that you could only hope to be. Wildly successful in her field because she works damn hard, and is the most selfless and passionate person I know.” Another tear falls down Jenna’s cheek, and it almost looks like her mom’s face softens when she notices the emotions peeking through her daughter’s brave facade.
“Jenna, come on,” her mom says, but Jenna holds her hand up to stop her. “You’re not about to walk out of here with a man you hardly know when your mother is here for you, like I always have been.”
Jenna shakes her head. “When’s my birthday?” she asks, and now it’s my body that stiffens.
Her own mom doesn’t remember the day she gave birth to her only kid?
“I—”
“I’m not doing this with you, Mom. Not again.” She sighs, scrubbing her hands across her makeup-free face. “Mark, it was…fineseeing you again.” She locks her fingers through mine. “And Mom. I want you to be happy and healthy. It’s all I’ve spent my whole life wanting. But I also spent it wanting and waiting for you to care about me.” She collects her belongingsfrom the seat. “But if it hasn’t happened by now, I doubt it ever will. I think I’ve finally accepted that. I know what it’s like to be without a mom, and when I walk out that door, that’s how my life will continue to be.” She holds her hand out in front of her mom, her fingers curling in a gesture for her mom to hand something over…but what?
“Jennifer, no,” her mom croaks out.
“Yes. My key, hand it over.”
Becky hesitates, and Jenna grows impatient, clicking her fingers before her mother rummages through her purse, and places a single key in Jenna’s palm. She nods in thanks, drawing a deep breath. Straightening her back, she hangs her purse over her shoulder, ready to march out the door and never look back.
I intertwine our fingers, and watch as her mom’s eyes fill with tears.
Not for the loss of her daughter, though. That much I know for sure.
“When do you guys head out?” I ask Becky as she looks between Jenna and me in utter disbelief.
“In two days,” Jenna answers for her mother.
“Best you change that flight to tonight, then. Have a good evening.” I take Jenna by the hand, the two of us leaving a disgruntled Mark Smoak and Becky Rogers behind us.
“Holy shit,” Jenna blurts out the moment the door to Katie’s Diner closes behind us, pushing away from me.
“I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry, but I saw you through the window and you just looked so—”
“Don’t be sorry, Cole. You spoke to her in ways I wish I could, in ways no one ever has. You gave me the confidence to do something I should’ve done years ago. Thank you. Thank you.Thank you.” She stands on her tiptoes, kissing the corner of my mouth, and butterflies fly freely in my stomach, my chest squeezing at the same time.
“I take it the creek scene is over and you have no plans for the rest of the day?” she asks, intertwining her fingers with mine on instinct, but she pulls them away just as quickly, looking over her shoulder with every step we take.
“Don’t do that,” I tell her firmly, for what I’m sure is the hundredth time. She tilts her head as though she has no idea what I’m talking about. Yet I already know what her response is going to be
“Do what?” she asks, like I knew she would as we walk down Main Street, and I notice the Grangewood Creek residents with their phones out, and pointed in our direction.
“Let go of my hand just because we’re in public. Hell, you do it in private, too.” I take her hand back in mine.
