The Heartbreakers - Page 22

“Oh?” I ask.

“We had papers drawn up about guardianship, had something happened to both parents. Patrick and I would’ve raised Anna and Darrius if something had happened to Kyle and Susan. And they would’ve raised you if your father and I had been gone at the same time. So, even if I’m still here, Kyle has been doing what your papà would’ve wanted. Their love for flying and jumping wasn’t the only thing Kyle and Patrick had in common; family was the most important thing to both of them, they considered each other brothers rather than just best friends, teammates and business partners.”

That makes sense.

“But going back to your feelings for Darrius,” Mom says fixing her blue eyes onto mine, “I knew how you felt about him and I was hoping you’d grow out of it.”

I’m surprised again. “You did? I thought—I thought you liked Darrius, Mom.”

Mom’s gaze softens as she wraps one arm around my shoulders. “I like him, Len. I kinda understood that he’s two years older than you and he started dating before you were ready. I didn’t exactly blame him for it, but somehow, I suppose I was disappointed that he didn’t seem to even try to wait for you.”

I don’t even try to hide the bitterness in my tone. “Obviously he doesn’t feel the same way for me, Mom. You’re right, seeing him date other girls has always hurt me, even when I knew I was too young for him. But I always thought things would change and that he eventually would see me. I just can’t believe that he cares so little about me that he’d date one of my best friends.”

Mom nods. “If I have to be honest, I’ve never liked Kiara. Sarah is a sweetheart, but I always had the feeling that she thought she was better than you and Sarah.”

I look at her, trying not to sound accusing. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that you didn’t like her?”

She shrugs. “Because you aren’t stupid, Len. And neither is Sarah. To be honest, Kiara was a terrible friend by dating the guy she knew you loved, but Darrius isn’t much better. I think he’s always known how you felt about him, he doesn’t deserve you, baby girl.”

A stray tear falls down my cheek and Mom dries it away with the tips of her fingers. “But I don’t think that not being with Darrius is that bad after all, you know?”

“What do you mean?” I ask, surprised by the steely note in her tone.

“Darrius reminds me of your papà in more ways than one, Len,” Mom finally says, as if she’d put a lot of thought into this. “Not only because he’s filling the same position Patrick had as the leader of the Cove Angels; he has the same drive and the same willingness to risk and to push his limits beyond what everyone else thinks possible.”

She’s right.

Darrius reminds me of Papà in a lot of ways too.

“Is that a bad thing, Mom? That’s what makes him so good at this sport, right? I mean, you have to be pretty fearless to try to basically jump out of a plane and glide in the air, opening your parachute at the last possible second, right?”

Mom sighs. “Yes, Len. And this is why I’m not totally sad if you don’t end up with Darrius, even though I know right now it really hurts. When I started dating your papà I thought that what he did was exciting, making him a complete badass. His fearlessness was a huge turn on, it was sexy. I know a lot of women feel the same way too, that’s why Darrius and his teammates and most skydivers are always surrounded by adoring women. But it’s different when it isn’t just a fling, sweetheart. When things with Patrick became serious, the fear started. It got worse once we got married and we had you. I always knew, deep down, that his love of flying could take him from me ... from us.”

She’s now crying.

I know Mom has never stopped loving my papà, but seeing her cry after all these years breaks my heart.

“If you and Darrius were together, Len, you’d have to live with that same fear every day. If you had children, you’d have to prepare yourself for the possibility that one day, you might have to raise them alone. I know skydiving and BASE jumping is safer now than it used to be a decade ago, and our company works hard to develop safer equipment and techniques. It’s a huge part of Patrick’s legacy. But accidents still happen and God knows I lived with that fear every day, with every jump. I don’t want that for you, sweetheart. Even if that makes me a little selfish, maybe.”

New tears burn their way down my face as I hold Mom tight. “No, Mom. You aren’t selfish. What you’re saying is true. I guess I never thought about that when I looked at Darrius. I’ve never really had a choice about loving him anyway, because I didn’t fall for him. I’ve always loved him since I can remember.”

We cry in each other’s arms, without saying any of the things that hang heavily between us; our common loss of Papa’, the weight of his legacy, the trauma that his accidental death caused us. Those wounds might have scabbed over but they’ll never really heal. I can board a plane if I really need to, but I’m scared of heights since the day I lost my papà.

I don’t talk about it, but Mom knows. No amount of therapy has helped either.

“I love you, Mom,” I whisper after a while. “For what it’s worth, Papà would be proud of what you’ve done with the Cove Angels and with me. I’ll do my best to make this work and avoid Kiara. I want to help especially with the press for the opener of the Patrick DeLaurent Museum. I want the world to never forget Papà like you and I never did.”

Mom squeezes me tight. “Your papà would be proud of you too, sweetheart. Let me get you a laptop and give you some material to study for today. I’ll arrange with Kyle to do your induction via video conference.”

I nod. “Thank you for understanding.”

She smiles. “I do. And don’t let Anna make you feel bad when she mentions the perks of being related to the owners of the company. She takes full advantage too. God knows she takes two hour lunches and she often disappears by 4 p.m.”

“You know, Mom, I’d be lying to you if I said that I don’t count not having to see Anna every day as one the advantages of working remotely.”

She giggles, checking her phone when it goes off with a text message.

It’s not like I’m spying or anything, but I catch what it says.

K: Are we still on for tonight? I can pick you up at seven. I have reservations somewhere I think you’ll enjoy. Kissy face emoji.

Mom reads it and there’s a beat of silence between us before she sets her phone face down on the coffee table. “Sweetheart,” she says, not meeting my eyes. “I know you just got back from France and with yesterday’s party we haven’t had much time to catch up, but do you have any plans tonight or will you be home for dinner?”

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