They heard someone on the stairs; Will opened the door to find Mitch standing there with a tray of food. “I thought you guys might want to take a break for lunch.”
“That’s so nice of you!” Will exclaimed.
Mitch set the tray down on the dining table and looked around. “Wow, you’re doing a great job. This place is looking so much better.”
“Thanks,” Tom said.
“Oh, I spoke to my mom, and she has an old rug in her basement that she said you can have. It should fit in here just fine. I’ll pick it up Saturday morning and bring it over.”
“Really? That’s very kind of her.”
“Not a problem. Okay, I’ll let you two eat your lunch. Enjoy.”
“I can’t believe how nice he is,” Tom said after Mitch had left.
“I know, right? But it seems to run in the Reynolds family. From what Clay has said about Finn, it seems Mrs. Reynolds did a wonderful job raising those guys.” Will paused to sip from one of the water bottles that Mitch had left for them. “So, um, speaking of moms, has yours said anything else about the fact that you’re moving?”
“Subtle, Will,” Tom said, smiling. “Actually, she’s been rather quiet about it. And weirdly, I think that’s a good sign. At least she’s not yammering on and on about how all relationships are bad.”
“Yeah.” Will sighed. “I just wish she was a little more positive about things.”
“Well, I don’t expect her to change overnight. I’ll take her silent acceptance as a good sign.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tom
When Tom pulledinto the driveway that night, he was surprised to see that his mom wasn’t home yet. She’d gotten out of work over an hour ago, and if she were running late for some reason, she’d usually let him know.
Before even getting out of his truck, he quickly sent her a text.
Everything okay? Just got home, and you’re not here.
He went upstairs to shower and change—he and Will had managed to get pretty dirty cleaning the apartment—and then heard his phone buzz.
Sorry, sweetie. Be home shortly. I’ll explain when I get there.
Relieved that everything seemed to be okay, he finished dressing and headed to the kitchen. Just as he opened therefrigerator door to grab something to drink, the back door opened.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, turning. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Tommy. I thought about telling you that I’d be late today, but I wanted to see how it went before I said anything.” She placed a familiar flat square box on the table and hung up her coat. “I got us pizza for dinner. I’ll tell you where I was while we eat.”
Tom took a couple of cans of diet soda from the fridge while Alice grabbed plates from the cabinet.
“Mmm, pepperoni and black olive.” Tom sighed contentedly. “My favorite.”
“With extra cheese,” Alice said. “Do I know my boy or what?”
“Thanks, Mom,” Tom replied, starting in on his first slice.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said when you told me you were moving out,” Alice began. “About always blaming myself for my failed marriage and not letting go.” She sipped her beverage and shook her head. “You’re right. I was putting it all on me, and it clouded my judgment.”
“I’m sorry, Mom …”
“No, you were right, and I’m glad you finally said something. I, well, I never wanted to hurt you, Tom. Part of my twisted brain thought I was helping you. But that’s another topic for another time. Like I said, I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I called the HR Department at work. One of the benefits they have is counseling services, so I made an appointment. Normally, I wouldn’t be able to see someone so quickly, but they had a cancellation. I had my first meeting with a therapist today. That’s why I was late.”
“That’s great, Mom.” Tom hesitated, unsure if he should say more. Deciding, he went on, “How’d it go?”
