Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
The warm compliments left me feeling out of sorts, yet mushy every time I heard them. They also made me sad for what I’d never gotten from my parents. How different would my educational and career journey have been if I had known I had my parents’ unwavering support? If I knew they’d feel pride simply because I worked hard and chased my dreams?
Our server arrived a few moments later. He was an older gentleman in black slacks and a white button-up shirt with a nametag that read ‘Ron.’ Bald and green-eyed, he reminded me of a skinny Bruce Willis. After we placed our orders—a lobster roll with fries for Nicole and crab cakes for me—he headed off to grab our drinks.
“You know, Ryder, I don’t think I’ve taken the time to properly thank you for allowing me to move in with you and Alex.”
“What?” I waved away her gratitude. “You’ve thanked me a hundred times.” And I didn’t want her thanks. I didn’t want her to think she was any burden or that I’d had to make sacrifices for her to live with us.
But she remained serious, staring straight at me with the same brown eyes she’d given her son. “Things with Kenny had gotten… difficult, more so than I ever let Alex know.” She sighed, gazing at a neighboring table where an elderly couple sat sharing a dessert, before looking back at me. “I made a lot of mistakes with him. Alex was so mature and responsible, and as I got sicker, it became increasingly difficult to stay on top of things. I wasn’t a good parent to either of my boys. I was there, yes, but I wasn’t present a lot of the time.”
Hearing her voice, her pain, and regrets, my heart ached because I knew, I knew Alex didn’t harbor any resentment or ill feelings toward her. He’d flat-out told me.
“Nicole, there’s no doubt in my mind you did the very best you could in the most challenging situation. There were so many factors stacked against you, and yet you showed up every day.”
She sighed. “I let so much slide with Kenny. I can’t stop wondering if I’d been stricter or more involved, maybe he wouldn’t be the mess he is today.”
“Nicole, you can’t—”
She lifted a shaky hand, cutting me off. “I know. It’s dumb to play the what-if game because it’s impossible to know the answer, but that doesn’t stop me from torturing myself with those what-ifs. I grew accustomed to living with stress and strain under the same roof as Kenny. I never knew when he’d come home, who he’d have with him, or what state he’d be in. Now that I’m out of that house, I feel free. I can only imagine Alex feels the same and more.” She tilted her head and gave me a sad smile. “And that opens a whole new level of guilt.”
I didn’t know how to respond. Clearly, I wasn’t a parent, and I’d never been responsible for another person. But I did feel, on some level, that I understood what she meant. I felt responsible for Alex, for his heart at least, and the times I’d fucked up with him, the guilt nearly smothered me.
“I’m sorry,” she said with an awkward chuckle. “I didn’t mean to get so heavy. You brought me to this beautiful restaurant, and I’m all morose.”
“No.” I reached across the table and placed my hand over hers. “I’m glad we can talk. You’re starting to feel like a second mother to me, so…” My face heated to a thousand degrees, and I averted my eyes. Why had I said that?
“Oh, Ryder, that means the world to me. I absolutely love you as another son.”
The server arrived with our food at that moment. The conversation immediately lightened, and I spent the rest of the meal listening to Nicole tell hilarious stories about a younger, probably adorably surly Alex.
I had the rest of the day off, and Alex wouldn’t be home until the early evening before having to work at Top Shelf, so we lingered, chatting and enjoying coffee after our lunch.
The server delivered our check, then darted to the table next to us. Before I had a chance to reach for it, a “Ryder?” had me glancing up.
My mother stood there in a familiar peach Chanel ensemble with her arm linked through my father’s. He wore a charcoal gray suit and wingtips. They stood, their postures stiff, staring down their noses at Nicole and me, who were dressed far more casually. My mother’s gaze drifted to Nicole, and had her forehead been able to move, it would have scrunched in confusion.
“Mom, Dad, uh, hello.” In the past, I’d have stood for a formal, polite introduction, but I no longer cared to play their games. I’d much rather stay on Nicole’s level than tower over her with my parents. “This is Nicole, Alex’s mom. Nicole, these are my parents, Miranda and Nixon Calloway.”