CHAPTER 17
“Does Quincy know you’re his new neighbor?” Darius grunted.
Ean glanced briefly at his friend as Darius helped him carry his black leather sofa into the tan-and-white living room of his new town house Friday afternoon.
“I didn’t tell him.” Ean wiped the sweat from his brow and straightened away from the furniture. It looked good in its new surroundings. What was even better, he’d only had to keep the furniture he’d brought from New York in storage for just over a month.
“Are you going to tell him?” Darius dropped onto the sofa.
“I’m sure we’ll run into each other sooner or later.” Ean sank onto the sofa’s other end.
He and Darius had been working, more or less nonstop, since seven o’clock that morning. It was close to lunchtime, and they were almost done.
Darius rolled his head on the sofa’s back to face Ean. “What are you going to say to him when that happens?”
Ean swung his right ankle onto his left knee. “It’s not as though Trinity Falls has a lot of housing options.”
“That’s true. You had only two choices—my condo development, where there’s no drama, and Quincy’s townhome complex, where you’ll have nothing but drama.”
Ean spread his arms. “What’s he going to do? Have the management office kick me out because I broke up with the woman he’s in love with?”
Darius shook his head. “It would go better if you confront the situation, instead of waiting for Quincy to trip over you.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” Ean stood. “We’re almost done. Let’s get the rest of the stuff so we could finish before lunch.”
Darius pushed himself off the sofa. “Now remind me again how this works? I take the day off from work to help you move your stuff, and you take Megan to dinner. Do I have that right?”
Ean ignored Darius’s tone. “Who helped you move in and out of your dorm every year?”
“That was ten years ago.”
“My back has never been the same.” Ean led Darius outside to the driveway and well-manicured lawn. “But what are friends for?”
“I could at least get an invitation to dinner.”
“Three’s a crowd.”
“Has anyone told Ramona you’ve moved?” Darius bent his knees to lift his end of the coffee table.
Ean carried the table’s other end. “I’m not worried about Ramona.”
Darius grunted. “Maybe you should be.”
As he guided Darius back into the town house, he wondered whether his friend was right.
When Ean opened his front door later that afternoon, he found his mother on his doorstep.
Doreen lifted the bag of fast food and a drink carrier with two containers. “I come bearing gifts. Have you eaten?”
With a grin, Ean stepped back to allow his mother to enter. “Perfect timing.” He locked the door behind her before escorting her farther into his new home.
Doreen slowed to consider the newly furnished living room. The black leather sofa’s dominance was rivaled only by the large flat-screen black television.
His mother nodded toward the TV. “That’s new.”
Doreen’s voice wasn’t as disapproving as he’d expected. Ean’s parents had discouraged watching television. When he was growing up, his family’s set had been so small, if he’d actually wanted to see a televised sporting event, he’d had to go to Quincy’s house.
Ean rubbed a hand over his mouth to mask a smile. “You’re welcome to come over to watch a football game anytime.”
She inclined her head. “I may take you up on that.”
Ean’s jaw dropped. Was she serious? How should he respond? He was still thinking about that when she walked away.
His mother circled the heavy mahogany coffee table. She traced the matching end table beside the sofa. Its twin stood on the opposite side. Each table supported stone lamps in modern designs.
His parents had helped him pick out his living-room set from a furniture store in Long Island. His father had saved him from his mother’s selections. Every set she chose had screamed, “My mommy decorated my condo.” Was she remembering that day? He’d never forget it.
Ean cleared his throat. “That was a good day.”
“Yes, it was.” Doreen gave him a soft smile over her shoulder. “Your things suit your new home perfectly.”
“Yes, they do.” It was as though he was meant to be here.
Doreen wandered toward the dining room and another furniture set on which he and his father had outvoted her. She unpacked the fast-food bag onto the table. “I brought your favorite—burger, fries and soda. Although, how you can eat this stuff and not get fat is beyond me.”
He held the chair at the head of the table for his mother, then sank into a seat on her right. “I exercise. Besides, I don’t eat like this every day.”
Doreen’s gaze remained fixed on her burger as she unwrapped it. “I’m concerned that you may have felt forced out of the house. You didn’t have to leave, if you weren’t ready.”
Ean released his still-unwrapped burger and covered her hand with his. “I was ready, Mom. I’m thirty-two years old. I need a place of my own.”
And so did she. Ean had heard footsteps creeping down the stairs the previous night after he’d settled into bed.
“Are you sure?” Doreen’s brown eyes were dark with concern.
“Positive.”
A smile touched her eyes. “Good, then I can enjoy my meal.”
Conversation about his move into the town house, her morning at Books & Bakery and the paperwork he needed to complete to establish his law practice carried them through their meal.
“Another reason I like fast food.” Ean stood and crushed the remains of their lunch into the restaurant’s paper bag. “No dishes.”
He crossed to the kitchen, which was a cozy nook beside the dining room, and stuffed the garbage into the large, black heavy-duty bag he’d designated for his move-in–day trash.
Ean turned back toward the dining room—and paused. He rested his shoulder against the threshold between the kitchen nook and the dining area. He studied his mother, who was still seated at the table. “Mom, I’m glad you asked about the reason I moved out.”
“So am I, Ean.” She shifted in her chair to face him.
Doreen looked as though she’d turned back time. Her dark brown hair’s soft-layered cut highlighted her classic features. Her wardrobe—hot pink jersey, light blue jeans and powder white sneakers—was even more youthful.
He took a deep breath; then he realized he was stalling. “I don’t like this awkwardness between us.”
“Neither do I.”
She sensed it, too? Was that bad or worse? “How do we get past it?”
Doreen sighed. “It’ll take time, Ean. Frankly, your moving out will help. We haven’t lived together in fourteen years. You were a kid when you left home. You’re an adult now. We have to become reacquainted.”
Ean’s eyebrows shot upward. “‘Reacquainted’? I’m your son.”
Doreen smiled. “We were bound to have some conflict simply because our relationship will have to change now that you’re older.”
Ean leaned more heavily against the wall. “I guess some changes aren’t so bad. I hadn’t realized when I returned to Trinity Falls, I’d open a practice here. I think it was the right decision.”
“I agree.”
Was there reticence in her voice? Ean swallowed his disappointment. He pushed away from the wall to sit beside her again. “Then why do you sound like you don’t?”
“Ean, I am happy for you. But you don’t need me anymore. Your father’s gone. What’s next for me?”
The sadness on his mother’s face stabbed him in his heart. “What do you mean?”
Her tormented brown eyes stretched wide in frustration. “I’m single again after more than forty years. That’s a lifetime. All of the decisions I used to make were as part of a couple. Now I have to make them by myself. I don’t know who I am anymore or what I want to do. I’m still trying to figure out my next step. And the biggest decision—what do I want to do with the rest of my life—I thought I’d already made. I wanted to spend it with Paul.”
Doreen buried her face in her hands and dissolved into muffled sobs. Ean was undone. He sprang to his feet and frantically scanned the area. He hadn’t unpacked. He didn’t have any tissues. What should he . . . ?
Ean jogged into the bathroom and returned with the liberated roll of toilet paper. “I’m sorry.”
Doreen accepted his offering with both hands. “This is fine. I don’t even know why I’m crying.” She used the quilted tissue to dry her eyes and blow her nose. “Your father and I built a good life. We raised a wonderful son.” She squeezed his arm and gave him a watery smile as he towered above her. “He’s not in pain any longer. I don’t have any reason to be sad.”
Ean dragged his chair closer before sitting. He took both of his mother’s hands in his. “You’re crying because you miss him. I miss him, too.”
Doreen drew one hand from Ean’s grasp and cupped the side of his face. “He was so proud of you.”
“And I’m proud of both of you. Look at what you’ve already accomplished, Mom. The bakery’s a huge success.”
“A bakery is a thing, Ean. It doesn’t need me. If I walked away from it tomorrow, no one would notice.”
Ean disagreed. A lot of people would notice. But he didn’t think his mother wanted to hear that now. Instead, words from his childhood returned to him. “Whatever you decide you want to do, Mom, I’ll support you.”
“That sounds like something Paul would say.” Doreen’s chuckle was unsteady.
“He did. On more than one occasion.”
Doreen squeezed his hand. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that now.”
Ean kissed her cheek. “You’ll figure it out.”
“I have to.” Doreen’s chin trembled once before she controlled it. She checked her wristwatch. “I’d better get back to work.”
Ean escorted her to the driveway. “Thanks again for lunch.” He helped her into her car.
“You’re welcome.”
Ean straightened to watch his mother drive away. He wished he knew how to help her. But as she’d said, it was her life and she needed to make her own decisions. All he could do was support them.