“Oh, honey. I’m sure you do, but you could do better.”
“I don’t want to do better…your way. I want to do it my way. It’s nonnegotiable, Mom. I’m grateful for the opportunity, but I’m not interested, and I never will be.”
“You’re stubborn,” she huffed through tight lips. “I don’t know what to do for you sometimes. Nothing works.”
“You don’t have to do anything for me. That’s what ‘grown up’ means. I’m self-sufficient. I’ve got this.”
“Of course. However, you do everything the hard way. I spent so many years clawing my way to the surface so I could build a better life for you, and you simply don’t care. I’m not talking about gratitude. I’m talking about bettering yourself and preparing for your future.”
“The future’s a mystery. I’ll work it out,” I sighed.
She picked up her purse and stood. “I’m sure you will. Is your tux clean?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“The ceremony is coming up and—”
“I’m not going,” I interrupted, immediately bracing myself for her anger or disappointment. I had my defenses ready. If she really wanted me there, I’d go solo. No date.
“What happened?”
I met her gaze and tried a smile that didn’t work. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. Who is it?”
I was prepared to give the usual, “Nobody, nothing, never mind” I always did, but lying seemed like a lot of work. “I want something I can’t have.”
“Bad attitude,” she said sharply.
“Excuse me?”
“You can have anything you want. You just have to go get it.”
“It doesn’t work that way with people, Mom.”
“Not always. But sometimes it does. It worked with Sam. It worked with your father too, but that was a disaster. We were too young and stupid to know what we wanted. God, I thought he’d never leave,” she sighed, moving into the adjoining family room, pausing to idly inspect the bookshelves.
“You never talk about him,” I said softly.
“There’s nothing to say. We were completely wrong for each other. We played house for a year, and it was eye-opening, to say the least. He used to come by…for special occasions after he left. Christmas morning, birthdays.…That stopped when he met someone new and moved to Canada.”
“He’s in Canada?”
“Or maybe La Cañada. Doesn’t matter. He’s dead to me,” she said coolly. “He didn’t belong in your life anyway. Never accept second best, Declan. Never.”
“Um, I don’t.”
She whirled on me with a fierce expression. “You do. You wait too long. You think and you think and write those beautiful words, but honey, you must act. Action is everything. Maybe real estate isn’t your thing, as you say. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do in order to get where you really want to go. I didn’t marry Sam for love. I married him for money, and then I fell in love with him. Isn’t life strange? So…go after what you want, full steam ahead. If you have to write a love song, then do it on the way there. Stop dillydallying along the path already. I love you. Good-bye.”
“Wait. That’s it? You’re leaving?”
“Yes, I’m selling the condo and buying a bigger one a block over. I had lunch with the listing agent and thought I’d pop in. Good thing I did. You’re a mess. Get something to eat, take a shower, and make a plan. Action, Declan. Action!” She shook her fist like a general stirring up the troops, then pivoted on her heels and click-clacked toward the front door.
“Thanks for coming by. It was good to—”
“Who is it?”
“Tegan.”
She grinned. “I always liked that kid.”
“What?”
Mom was halfway to her car with her phone on her ear. She cast an absent look at me and pulled her cell away. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Dec. I know things. He’s a good one. Go get him, Tiger.”
16
Tegan
The house was filled with people. It made the random Wednesday feel like Christmas morning with my sisters’ nonstop chattering and grandkids racing through the kitchen yelling after each other. I kind of loved it, but I was ready to go home. I took the last few days off to hang out with my family and make sure my mom was settled in and comfortable. And yeah…to avoid real life.
Charlie and the guys were appropriately sympathetic, but I couldn’t hide out in Long Beach. Zero needed me in the studio. The ostrich with its head in the sand act wouldn’t make that article go away. My name was all over it. My input wasn’t just requested, it was required. I just didn’t know how this was going to work. Bottom line…I fucked up. And I didn’t know how to unfuck it up.
My dad practically sighed with relief when Maggie and Rachel took the kids to the park while Mom rested. I should have made my exit then, but I made an excuse about rush-hour traffic and offered to help Dad build a birdhouse. At least, I thought that was what it was. Not important. The truth was, I wasn’t ready to say any more good-byes.