Love You Better (Better Love 1)

“Yes, please. Serial killer documentaries, cookies, and wine; these are a few of my favorite things.”

Bailey laughs, picks up the remote and flips on the television, and the tension that was once suffocating dissipates. I send up another thank you to the powers that be that I have someone like Bailey in my life and settle in for a girls’ night with my other bestie.

* * *

“Hey, Mom,” I say into the phone as I walk to the library after classes on Thursday. I’ve talked to Jacob a few times this week, but this is the first time Mom’s been around when I called. “How’s work?”

“The usual, sweetie. Beth Anne quit finally so I got some of the girls training someone new. And Frank—you know Frank? The older gentleman who works in the kitchen—well, his daughter had her baby, so he took off the weekend to go see ‘em and I had to move Nicky from fry to line and move Josiah from bussing to fry. You know. It’s always somethin’.”

“Jeez, Mom. When was your last day off before today?” I ask, and when she starts to answer, I add, “I mean a real day off; not a day when you only work a single instead of a double.”

She barks out a laugh, followed by a cough, and I wince. I wish she’d quit smoking, but at least she doesn’t do it in the house or in the car anymore. Jacob’s asthma put a stop to that. Curse those nasty nicotine demons and the hold they have on my mother.

“My last full day off was ten days ago, but someone’s gotta make sure the place don’t fall down, Ivy Jean. That someone’s gotta be me.” I hear her deep inhale, probably taking a drag from a cigarette. “The only employee I can trust is Allison and she’s got a son and that deadbeat husband, so I can’t be expectin’ her to be there all the time.”

“I know, Mom.” I hear this every time. “Just make sure you’re not working yourself too hard, please. Jacob needs you. He shouldn’t be home by himself all the time.”

“Ivy Jean, I’m the parent here. I know what I’m doin’,” she spits out. “I raised you just fine and you turned out alright. Trust I can take care of Jacob. He is my son.”

I bite my tongue. She and I have gotten into it over this before, and it’s a sore subject. I love my mother. She’s worked harder than any person should have to, to provide for Jacob and me. Life’s dealt her a really difficult hand and she’s playing it the only way she knows how. But sometimes, a lot of times, I get frustrated with it all, and I grow resentful. I basically raised myself, and Jacob too. I have to remind myself that she’s sacrificed so much—after my dad died, and then Jacob’s dad took off, and then with everything that happened with me my senior year of high school. I’m lucky she’s my mom. But sometimes I wonder if it couldn’t be different.

There’s an awkward, lengthy pause, and then I hear movement in the background.

“Is Jacob home?”

“He just walked up. I’ll put him on.” She takes a deep breath. “Ivy Jean, you know I love you.”

“I do, Mom.”

“Bigger than the sun...” she says.

“...and the moon and stars, too,” I finish. Then she hands the phone to Jacob, and I can’t stop the smile that takes over my face.

“Bean!” Jacob exclaims. I just talked to him two days ago, but he always acts like it’s been forever.

“Hey, Bug! Did you just get home?”

“Yep. I stopped at the library on the way home. I got this book about dragons and a dragon rider and there are elves, and it’s a series and the books are huge, but I’m gonna start it tonight.” He’s so cute when he’s excited.

“That’s amazing, Jacob! Maybe I’ll check it out, too, and we can buddy read.”

“Yeah! You can read it with Kelley and me!”

“You’re reading it with Kelley?” I ask, and I feel my smile grow until I’m a grinning fool. I absolutely love that Kelley and Jacob are close. The way Kelley is woven into my life fills me with feelings I shouldn’t feel, and I work quickly to mentally stomp on all of them. Take that, butterflies.

“He’s the one that told me about it. He says he’s read the whole series like three times and now he’s reading it with me so it’s his fourth time.” He’s so excited that I don’t think he’s taken a breath.

“When did you talk to him?”

“Oh, he called to see how I was doin’ a couple days ago...” Jacob trails off. Kelley must have called to ask him about those bullies at school.

“How are you, Bug?” I ask.

“Fine.” His answer is clipped and quiet, and my defenses go up.

“How’s school?”

“F-fine.” As soon as he stutters, I can tell something is wrong. He used to stutter all the time when he was younger, but now it only comes out when he’s flustered or nervous. Sometimes when he’s scared.