Gloria took a sip of her tea and set the mug down. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Irritation sliced through Raine, bringing with it a wave of dizziness. She exhaled slowly and held on to the mug, focusing on the warmth. “What do you care if I’ve eaten or not?”
Gloria paused. “You look awful, Raine.”
“Gee, say what you mean, already.” Raine pursed her lips and glared at her mother. Seriously, what gave her the right? “I’ve come down with a bug.”
“Would this bug be called depression?”
Okay, now the woman was getting more than a little too familiar. Who the hell did she think she was, anyway?
“No, it would be called the flu.”
“The flu.”
“Yep.”
“Well, that’s not very pleasant. Why don’t you let me look after you?” Gloria took another sip, though her eyes never left her daughter.
Raine knew where her mother was going with this, and it wasn’t going to work. She’d done just fine without Gloria Delgotto for most of her life, and there was no way in hell she was going to swoop in and play Nurse Nightingale at the eleventh hour because of some guilt trip that had taken thirty years to materialize.
“Nope.” Raine shook her head. “It’s more like the twenty-four-hour thing. I’m good.”
“You don’t look good.”
The irritation inside Raine exploded, and she slammed her mug onto the counter so hard her mother winced as hot tea sloshed over the side and pooled on the granite.
“Gloria, let me share a secret with you. I don’t have to look good for anybody. I live alone, and Gibson doesn’t care what the hell I look like as long as I rub his belly now and again and feed him on a regular basis.” She leaned closer. “I don’t care that I look like crap, and neither should you.”
Her mother moved around the island and grabbed a cloth from the kitchen sink. Raine stepped out of the way and watched sullenly as Gloria cleaned up the spilled tea.
“I hear Jake Edwards is back in town.”
“Didn’t take you long to plug in to the local grapevine.”
“Mrs. Lancaster saw him downtown yesterday with some blond woman, and she told me when I stopped in for prayer meeting last night.” Gloria faced her daughter. “I know he means a lot to you. Has he been here? Have you seen him?”
Raine clenched her teeth so tightly that pain radiated along her jaw. None of this was her mother’s business, but she knew Gloria enough to know she wouldn’t leave until she got what she came for. Raine decided to cut to the chase.
“I’m not discussing Jake Edwards—or Jesse for that matter—with you, so if there’s anything else…”
“You’re not all right.”
No shit.
“What I am”—Raine leaned forward and spoke carefully—“is none of your concern.”
She saw the pain in her mother’s eyes, saw how they filled with the shiny, unmistakable sheen of tears, and still she plunged forward. She couldn’t help herself.
“I haven’t been your concern for a very, very long time, Gloria, so let’s stop pretending. I don’t need you.”
“I’m your mother and I’m trying—”
“I don’t need you to hold my hand. Not now. I needed that a long time ago.” Raine gripped the edge of the granite countertop for support. “I needed you when I was eight and Auntie Jeanine’s dog was run over by the school bus. I saw the whole thing and cried for days. I needed you when I was in ninth grade and got my period during gym class. Everybody knew, including Liam Atkinson.” Raine paused as the old memory washed through her mind. She’d been teased mercilessly by some of the more popular girls, and Liam had dumped her like a hot potato.
“I needed you when Auntie Jeanine got ill. When she was puking every hour on the hour because she couldn’t take the chemo. That’s when I needed you.”
“Raine, if I could have been here, I would have, but I couldn’t leave the Sudan. Our mission would have fallen apart, and all those children… I couldn’t…I couldn’t let that happen.”