She pushes me playfully. “Stop.”
“Is this related to the wedding?” I ask thinking of the nuptials that will take place in a week on the beach.
“In a way. I just hope I know you as well as I think I do.” We wait for the courtroom to clear and head outside where the brothers have formed a human shield. Prospects, you got to love them. We make our way to the car and climb inside. When we reach the house, I frown.
“Why’s the light on?”
“Cause there’s someone inside.”
I perk up. Maybe our girl has arrived early for the wedding. We talk to Whitney weekly, but we haven’t seen her in months. I miss her bright smile and the way Bolton follows her everywhere. Their friendship is amusing to watch progress. She helped him a lot when it came time to apply to colleges. It’s hard to believe he’s a college student now. It seems like just yesterday the kid was twelve.
I park the car and remove my wheelchair from the back after she leaves the car and waits for me. The newest addition to the family was a fully loaded car with hand controls. I was nervous until I got the hang of it. It was different for the first couple of weeks, but now I’m used to it. I wheel around, and we walk up to the house together. She unlocks the door, and I move inside expecting to see Whitney.
The tall, gray-haired woman with the same hazel-colored eyes and nose steals my breath.
“Karen?”
She nods. “Blanche thought you might like to have me here for the wedding.”
I nod my head. “She was right. My goddess, you are too good to me,” I whisper, squeezing her hip. I’d resumed letters with Karen over the months, after I took up the job as Treasurer and things settled down. I like the woman she’s becoming after prison. Not being able to see her was one of my biggest regrets.
“I’m going to get dinner started and give you guys a chance to talk.”
She walks toward me in a pair of khaki shorts and a nice white t-shirt. She looks like any nice suburban mom. But she’s mine.
“Hello, Jagger.”
I wheel over and take her hand. “Thank you for coming all this way.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“I’m not sure what to say,” I whisper honestly. Between the counseling I’ve resumed, and our letters, the anger is gone, leaving us with a possible place to build from.
“You look really good.”
“Thank you, so do you.”
“Being sober will do that for you.”
“I’m proud of you, Mom,” I force the words out.
She blinks back tears. “Thank you. I’m so happy to see you like this happy and healthy, with someone who loves you as much as you love her. It’s all my prayers answered.”
“You prayed for me?”
“Every night. Still, do.”
It feels good, closing the door on the worst chapter of my life before I move into my best.
“Karen, do you think we could start over from here?”
“I would really like that.”
“My Old Lady is an excellent cook, why don’t we see what she has planned for dinner tonight?”
As we return to the kitchen, I can’t help but think I love the way my life is shaping up.
***