“He’ll probably have something cooler going on, but I’ll ask.” She sloshed some chicken broth into the pot and stirred, scraping off any veggies stuck to the bottom. “Thanks for thinking of us, though.”
“It’s not just thinking of you. I want you there. I need all the love and attention I can get.”
“You would,” she teased. “The time with Liam might not be dwindling like you think, though. He’s leaning heavily toward staying home for another year.”
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Fuck shit fuckity fuck. Liam choosing juniors most likely meant Liam living at home. Liam living at home meant Emma wouldn’t come with me if I moved to L.A. But I tried to infuse my voice with some semblance of enthusiasm. “What made him decide?”
My mind took off, trying to come up with solutions that ended with Emma going wherever I went. I could offer to buy him an apartment, but Emma would almost definitely shoot that down.
Emma turned to face me, moving her cutting board to the counter opposite me. “He was really freaked out by the stalking.He claims that’s not the only reason, but I think he doesn’t want to leave me alone.”
I focused hard on creasing the paper in front of me and lifted a shoulder. “I could get you security.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Emma said. “I’m not sure that would change Liam’s mind anyway. But I also don’t want him playing hockey just because he feels like he needs to protect me.”
“That’s my job now,” I joked.
Emma’s jaw set and her eyes filled with tears. Guess that joke didn’t land. Her voice was wobbly when she spoke. “It’s this weird tension. I want him to do what’s best for him without me in the equation. If he’s sick of hockey, I want him to go to whatever college he wants. But if he still feels like he needs me, I don’t want him to think I gave up on him. I don’t want him to feel forced out.”
I wrinkled my brow. “I don’t see why he’d think that. You two are so close.”
A tear trickled down Emma’s cheek, and my chest squeezed at the sight. “I know what it feels like when your parents give up on you, and I don’t want him to ever feel that.”
I felt punched in the gut, taken aback by Emma’s pain that she’d only brought up once before. I hadn’t taken the time to consider how much that impacted her, and especially her relationship with her son. I crossed the room and wrapped her up in a hug again. “That must have been so hard. I’m sorry.”
“It’s still hard sometimes,” she admitted into my T-shirt. “He’s a whole adult and they missed everything. All because they thought I was too young and naive to choose being a mom over college. I didn’t even fully quit college.” She pushed back from me and gesticulated with her hands, years of hurt that needed a place to go. “I changed tracks to culinary school after Liam was born, which was what I had wanted to do all along. But they blamed Jeff for everything. Planting the culinary school idea inmy head, which he didn’t. Getting me pregnant, which yeah, was an accident, but I loved him. I knew he’d be a good dad, and he is. But they hated the idea of Jeff, so Jeff and I became this little island without them. But now, it’s not even about me anymore. I’m mad for Liam.”
I pulled her into me again, kissed the top of her head, and rocked her from side to side. “It’s okay to be mad for yourself too.”
“There’s no point,” she said miserably.
“Do I get to be mad for you, then?”
She laughed and finally looked up at me. “I’ll let you do that.”
“Good.” I kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose. “Liam moving out is not what your parents did to you.”
She nodded and sniffled. “I know that. I can wrap my head around it. But I don’t want to give him any feeling even adjacent to it.”
My hand went up and down her spine. “Liam knows you love him.”
“I know I probably don’t need to protect him. That’s just been my job my whole adult life.”
I tapped her nose. “And you’ve done an amazing job.”
“I know I should be ready to move on,” she said. “And I know he can stand on his own. But I want him to choose that, not to feel shoved out.”
“I get it. I understand whatever he chooses,” I said firmly, heading back to where I was working on origami.
She scrubbed her hands down her cheeks and straightened. “And I understand if you don’t want to stick around through it.”
Nerves shot through me, a lightning quick panic. “Do you want me to go?”
“No, no. Not what I’m saying,” she said, backing up to lean on the counter behind her. “But . . . it’s probably getting old having me put my adult son first.”
I shrugged and shook my head. “I promise I’m not bothered by it. I’m not that insecure.”
She popped her jaw forward and back, examining her nails to avoid looking at me. “Sometimes I am. Insecure, that is. I’m a lot older than you. It won’t be long before I’m going through menopause. I’ll be a walking mood swing and hot flash. My time on young and fresh is very limited.”
