He stayed with me.
He held me.
And now he knew my dirty secrets and he wanted me to love him.
I crushed the pillow to my chest. He never pushed me; he simply became the person I needed.
I climbed out of bed, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth then changed to get ready to go for a run. I knew the running would be for a different reason this time. It wouldn’t be to bury the memories; it was to let them in and accept them.
I sat on the end of my bed to put on my running shoes when there was a soft knock on my door before it creaked open.
“Can I come in?”
I didn’t recognize the voice and tensed. Suddenly, I wished Crisis was still with me. He was like a buffer between me and everyone else.
The door slowly opened and an older woman dressed in black slacks, low black pumps and a white blouse with a red and gold silk scarf tied around her neck stood there. She looked classy and so not what I was expecting to be showing up in my room. My first thought was a psychologist or doctor or something.
“I’m on my way for a run.” I met her eyes, refusing to buckle under the overwhelming pressure to cave and fall into an abyss of tears of self-pity.
She smiled and it was warm and kind. I knew I should feel bad for being rude, but I didn’t. “I’ll only be a minute.” She approached me. “I’m Sophia Wesson.”
“Oh.” Crisis’ mother and the woman who had fostered Ream. Some of the tension evaporated.
“Do you mind?” She gestured to the bed and when I didn’t say anything she sat beside me, although at a distance.
My emotions were currently a circus of fucked up and I was uncertain about how I felt about meeting her.
“Both my sons are being evasive as to what happened.” Sons . . . she called Ream her son. “But Ream has always been . . . reserved and . . . stubborn.” Well, that was all true and he was reserved because of what he’d gone through. Trust was something both of us had a hard time doing. “But he called me. It’s the first time he’s ever called me for help. It was the first time he sounded scared.”
Shit, he’d called her—scared.
“I won’t pretend to have any idea of what has happened to you because I don’t. I’ve had a pretty comfortable life with nothing too traumatic other than the loss of my cat.” She shifted, crossing her legs. “My boys mean the world to me and seeing them worried and afraid, that breaks a mother’s heart.”
The word mother hit me hard. And maybe it was why some of the tension in me faded because she was a mother and good mothers did anything for their children. I may have never held my child, or known him, but it didn’t matter. Charlie was part of me, always would be.
“I’m just a mother, Haven. But I’m a good one and I love my children no matter when or how they came into my life. You’re part of our family now. I won’t ever abandon or judge you and when you’re ready, I’m here for you.”
I realized I’d been holding my breath and slowly exhaled.
“Really, Mom?”
I jerked my eyes to the door to see Crisis standing with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping wet. He must have seen the open door and glanced in.
“What the fuck? Why are you here?” He glanced at me then frowned at his mom. “She doesn’t want you mothering her.”
Sophia stood and walked toward him. Her back was to me, but I saw Crisis’ frown drop away pretty quickly. “Go put some clothes on,” she ordered. “I taught you better than that. Haven doesn’t need to see you parading around half-naked. And when on earth did you get that tattoo on your side?” She made a tsking sound. “I don’t know why you and Ream need to mark up your skin. You have beautiful bodies without all that ink staining it.”
Crisis didn’t bother moving like his mother wanted him to; instead, he raised his arms and held the top of the doorframe, which showed off his muscled abdomen.
“Fuck, Mom, give it up about the ink.”
She smacked his arm. “Where did that mouth come from? God, what Haven must think of you? No wonder you never have a girlfriend.”
He winked at me and my stomach flipped over. No matter what was screwing with me, Crisis could plow through it and make me feel better. It wasn’t something I’d expected. It just happened, slowly, over time.
He never gave up on me. It was as if he crawled inside me and made himself at home. The thing was he never busted down the door. He knocked and it was I who opened it.
Sophia glanced over her shoulder at me and smiled then ducked under Crisis’ arms. “Vincent, close the door. Give the girl some privacy. Put some clothes on and I’ll make everyone something to eat.”
“We’re going running,” Crisis said.
“I sure hope not like that.” Sophia scowled. “And why would you shower before you run?” She made an exaggerated sigh while shaking her head. “I have no idea what goes on inside that head of yours.”
“And a fuck of a good thing,” Crisis said then chuckled.
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. It was cute. They had an ease between them. And Sophia’s words resonated. No matter what Crisis had done or did, his mother would always love him.
Sophia reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Behave yourself.”
She left but Crisis stayed in the doorway, leaning forward, his weight on his arms gripping the top of the doorframe. “Give me two minutes, babe.”
I nodded then said, “She’s . . . nice.”
“She’s special as hell. There is no de-momming that woman.” He smirked and his arms dropped to his sides. I loved that he was letting all that I’d told him go and was back to himself. I’m sure it was spinning inside his head, but I needed him to be Crisis and he was giving me that. “You’re not a pissy-ass jogger are you? I like to run.”