“But?” Taking a chance, I lean closer to her and place my elbows on my knees. This is her way of knowing that I’m listening, and I won’t say anything unless she tells me to.
She hunches in her chair and folds her arms, like she’s guarding herself. “Mom said I need to be careful who I get into business with. Obviously, I asked her what she meant by that because if there’s one thing she isn’t going to do, it’s talk shit on my friendship with Ellie.”
The server comes by and asks if we would like anything to drink. I take this opportunity to spend more time with Riley. I’ll take anything I can get to be with her, especially when no one else is around.
“I’m okay,” Riley says.
My shoulders slump from disappointment, and when the server walks away, I ask her, “Do you wanna go for a walk? On the beach? I need to walk off all this food we just ate.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I wait for her response.
Her eyes land on the floor, processing what I’ve asked and what her next move should be. I could use her company, and I hope she feels the same way.
“Sure.” Her voice is exasperated.
The great thing about a beachside resort is that you can take five steps from an outdoor restaurant and feel the sand between your toes. Riley takes off her shoes, andthey dangle between her fingers. White lounge chairs are lined up down the beach, some covered with an umbrella.
I roll the bottom of my pants as we walk along the edge between water and white sand. “So, your mom is telling you to be careful of Ellie?”
She lets out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah. I replay the conversation in my head over and over. I think she was actually insinuating it about me, not Ellie. Like she doesn’t think I can do this. It sucks not having her support.”
“You have so many other people on your side about this. You know that. I mean, I’d like to say I’m your biggest fan and supporter.” I shrug.
She leans toward me, nudging me with her shoulder. “Shut up.”
“It’s true. I think this will be a step in the right direction for you. It could bring more opportunities for both you and my sister and take you places you might not have thought of. It helps that Ellie is already a notable chef.”
“Sure,” she whispers.
I grab her wrist to turn her toward me. She doesn’t jerk away or step back, simply looking at me.
“If Ellie didn’t believe in you or trust you, she wouldn’t have asked you to run the bakery with her. She could have asked our mom or Rowan, but she didn’t. She askedyou.”
Riley turns her head to the side, watching a happy couple walk past us.
I grip her chin between my fingers and turn her eyes back on me. “Stop being so hard on yourself.”
“Easier said than done.”
Dropping my hand, I take a step back and tuck my hands into my pockets. “So, this is how you feel when you try to give me a pep talk, huh?”
She lets out a single laugh and shakes her head. “Irritating, isn’t it?”
“Look, I just hate seeing you beat yourself up over someone who doesn’t deserve any of your time or energy. I don’t know why you let your mom talk down to you,still.She’s never going to change, and you need to let go of this fantasy that she’ll turn into the mom you want her to be.” I wince.
Riley’s mom is a touchy subject, and I’ve always known this. But time and time again, Riley lets her mom speak to her like she’s insignificant.
She crosses her arms, and when she looks at me, there’s regret in her honey golden eyes. Regret that she’s opened to me and talked about someone who has let her down time after time.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
“You’ll never understand how I feel. You’ll never understand why I think the way I do. Your parents are supportive. They shower you and Ellie with love I’ve never experienced. But she’s my mom, August. I can’t cut ties with her.”
There’s so much more I wish I could say, but I don’t want to ruin this moment or this weekend with Riley. Would I like her to go to bed upset at me? No. So I’m going to shut my mouth.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
“I know you’re not a fan of my mom. A lot of people aren’t, and because of that, it’s hard to talk about it with people without them getting defensive over me. I get it. But sometimes I just want to vent without people telling me what I already know, and then fighting with me about it. You used to let me just talk. That’s all I need right now. Can you do that for me?”
I wipe my hand on my cheek, push my glasses up, and then fix them. “Okay, I’ll do that. I’ll listen.”
