ChapterFour
Aweek later, Chloe sat in her living room and debated how to spend her time this afternoon. She had to work tonight, and she had an appointment to get her hair cut, but beyond that, she had nothing. Everything about her coffee date with Lance last week still bugged her. She’d been more restless than usual. She put on her latest binge-worthy show—space bounty hunters—and toyed with the frame for her current cross-stitch. It was a silly hobby, but she loved it.
Her grandmother had taught her when she was young and Chloe had taken to it immediately. Something was soothing about the counting and making precise little x’s that turned into a phrase or a picture. In general, Chloe had never been terribly creative. That had been Erin’s specialty. Her little sister could make up stories about anything.
Chloe, however, liked logic and patterns, which was why her parents pushed her toward business. To a certain degree, they’d been right. Math came easy to her. And she was good with people. But it was completely unfulfilling. She was bored out of her mind at every job she’d held. It made going back to get her MBA a nonstarter, much to her mother’s disappointment.
The Black Rose might not be sophisticated work, but at least she wasn’t bored. She picked up her cross stitch and watched TV as she worked. Her mother had been proud when Chloe learned this skill. She used to brag about how beautiful her cross-stitch was. Good enough to sell at the church bazaar.
Then Chloe’s grandma had taught her how to make her own patterns instead of buying them. It opened the door to more interesting things because Chloe could create her own sayings and designs. Cross stitch had always been her getaway. When her mom was nagging and her siblings were bragging, she could retreat to a world of counting and thread and pouring her aggravation onto a piece of material. Then she tucked it away where no one would see. By the time she was living on her own, she had piles of cross stitches to fill her online store.
Now she had a moderately successful online business selling NSFW cross stitch. Her parents didn’t know anything about it. They’d be mortified by the sayings she made and sold.
She’d told Erin about it, and Erin made her promise never to tell anyone. Chloe promised and then turned to Garrett. If anyone would tell her if she was making poor choices, it would be her brother, the priest. Garrett had laughed. He said there was no harm in writing inappropriate things. It was not the kind of offense that would send her to hell. Not that she fully believed the place existed. However, he agreed that their mother wouldn’t handle it well.
She looked at the red lettering she had yet to finish. Everyone needs the kind of friend who will help hide the body. It wasn’t like she was encouraging someone to commit murder.
When she was frustrated, she made a new cross stitch. After her date with Lance, she came home and made one that said Fuck the Status Quo.
The sheer number of “fuck”s on her cross-stitch these days would send her mother to confession on her behalf.
Looking at her unfinished project, she couldn’t get motivated. She wasn’t feeling friendship. Today she was feeling naughty. She picked up her extra hoop, ignoring the on-screen couple who were flirting but who she doubted would end up in bed together. She thought about Ronan and her run-in with him at the bar when he’d grabbed her wrist. She remembered the feel of him over her in front of the bonfire. She knew then what she wanted to cross-stitch. Do all the dirty things.
She worked for over an hour on her idea and then decided to head to her mom’s house before her haircut. Her appointment was with Mrs. Doyle, so Chloe usually liked to knock out a quick visit with Mom beforehand. She could be a good daughter without being tied up too long.
On her way out, she picked up the small cross stitch that she’d finished for her mom. It was a simple bible verse—Let all that you do be done in Love ~Cor 16:14—her chance at convincing Mom she wasn’t going to hell.
She drove home and as she got out of her car, she saw a couple of trucks over at the Doyle house and guys taking sledgehammers to the front porch. Inside her childhood home, she yelled, “Hey, Mom.”
“You don’t have to holler, Chloe. The house isn’t that big. What are you up to today?” her mom asked as she came from the kitchen.
“I just stopped by to say hi before I get my hair cut.” She held out the cross-stitch. “I made you this.”
“It’s beautiful. I always wished I had my mother’s skill in embroidery. I guess I’ll just have to be content to know all of it was passed on to you.”
“Mmm-mm. What’s going on across the street?”
“I think Ann is finally replacing that porch. It’s been a trip hazard for her in the winter for years.” Her mom swept aside the sheer drapes and they both looked out the front window at the men working. “I’m thankful I’ve always had your father to take care of such things. To be on her own for so many years...”
“What does being alone have to do with a bad porch? I’m just as capable of making a phone call to find a repairman as a man is. That’s all Dad would do. It’s not like he would fix it himself.”
Her mom turned to face her. “One day, you’ll understand.”
Her dad came through the front door, handed a bakery bag to her mom, and kissed her cheek. “Looks like they’re getting that porch done. And on a weekend. I bet that costs extra.”
“Not if Ronan’s doing it,” Chloe responded.
Her mother shot her a glare that clearly said, “That boy,” full of contempt. Then she looked in the bag as if she didn’t know it held a bear claw.
For as long as Chloe could remember, her dad took a walk every Saturday, stopped by the bakery, and bought Mom a bear claw.
“Hi, sweetie,” he said to Chloe. “How are things?”
“Good.”
He nodded and went to his home office.
Her mom reached into the paper bag and broke off a piece of pastry.
“Don’t you ever get tired of bear claws?”
“What?”
“Every week, Dad brings you the same thing. Haven’t you ever thought ‘I’d really like a chocolate doughnut’?”
“I don’t particularly like chocolate.”
She didn’t get it. Chloe looked at her parents and knew they loved each other, but she never saw any sparks between them. Not good or bad. They just were. Maybe that was because they’d been married for thirty-five years. Maybe at some point, there was no more excitement to be had.
“What are you asking?” her mom said.
Chloe shook her head. She wasn’t even sure she knew. “Don’t you get bored?”
“Of what?”
“Everything. Life. Being a mom. A wife. Bear claws every freaking Saturday.”
“No. I like my life. I’m very fulfilled. When you find what you want, you don’t need to change it.” The look of total confusion on her mom’s face said more than her words. She couldn’t imagine any other life.
Chloe let that sink in. She didn’t know if she believed it. Her mother was content to just accept things in her life. She’d never known her mom to want anything. Chloe used to want things. It was time to figure out what she wanted now.