“Riley’s not here,” I tell her, gesturing vaguely into the room behind me.
“Yeah, I know. I’m here to talk to you.”
“Me?”
She nods.
Huh. Well, all right.
I take a step back. “Come in.”
She glances past me reluctantly, like she doesn’t really want to. She steps into the entryway but lingers by the door, a hand on her purse strap like she’s eager to get back through it.
Since she seems so uneasy being here, I don’t try to take her any farther without indication she wants to come in. “Do you want to sit? Are you thirsty?”
She shakes her head. “No. I don’t expect I’ll be here long, I just… I need to ask you a couple of things and, depending on the answers to those questions, impart some advice you haven’t asked for.”
My eyebrows rise. “Sounds like a good time.”
“There should be a carnival booth outside selling tickets,” she deadpans.
“All right. What are these questions?”
“Do you love my daughter?” she asks bluntly. “I don’t mean you think she’s cute or smart or funny, that you like her, that you want to sleep with her. Not lust, not like—do you truly love my daughter? Through thick and thin, surviving good times and bad kind of love?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.
She nods like that’s the answer she expected. “Okay. What did you do to her?”
My heart sinks.
Michelle closes her eyes and holds up a hand before I can speak. “No, wait. Don’t tell me. Don’t tell me what you did. I told myself I wasn’t going to ask that one. It’s setting this up to fail. Riley might forgive you for whatever it was, but I never will. Don’t tell me what you did. Tell me why you did it.”
I drop her gaze, trying to figure out which thing she even means. I have no idea what Riley shares with her mom. Does she mean the night I took her virginity, the thing with Valerie, or the night Sherlock kissed her?
“You look confused,” Michelle says, sounding slightly afraid. “Why do you look confused? Is there a long list? You’re trying to figure out which time I’m referring to?”
Jesus Christ. How do moms do that?
Michelle takes my not answering in a nanosecond as verification of my long list of sins and covers her face with her hands. “Ugh, what am I doing here? I should just let this work itself out. She’s going to college in a few months anyway, maybe she’ll never see either one of you again. Maybe she’ll get over this bad boy thing and meet someone who will take better care of her.”
“Hey,” I say, scowling. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you. Riley loves you and I do want you to like me, but there is no one in the world who would treat your daughter better than I would.”
She uncovers her face and cocks an eyebrow. “Then how come the girl that’s been crazy about you since she was 14 refuses to be your girlfriend now? Initially I thought it was my fault, but I’ve realized it’s yours. You started sending flowers. Men only send flowers when they fuck up, and she threw them away one week, so you must have really fucked up. Riley would never do that without an insanely good reason.”
I shake my head. “I’m not gonna defend myself, Michelle. I did fuck up, and I’ve been trying to make it up to her ever since. I know it’s my fault she won’t agree to be my girlfriend. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop trying. I’m not. She’s it for me. Nothing’s ever gonna change that. I don’t want anyone else. I know you think we’re too young or whatever, but I’m not too young to know I love your daughter, and I never want to love anyone else.”
Her whole posture changes. It’s almost like she takes a step back, but her feet don’t move. She looks at me for the first time like maybe she takes me a little bit seriously.
Then, the woman who never seems to run out of words says simply, “Huh.”
“Does that answer your question?”
“It does.”
I feel awkward as hell, dumping my heart out for her approval. Now she doesn’t look uncomfortable and eager to flee, but those feelings have drifted over to me. “So… is that it?”
She shakes her head. “No. You unlocked the unsolicited advice level.”
“Lucky me.”
She smiles faintly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You’ve gotta lay off Sherlock.”
Whatever I expected her to say, it was not that. “Excuse me?”
“I get that he kissed her and you’re jealous. I even get that he was pushy and aggressive, and maybe…” She trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence. She doesn’t figure it out, but she does bring her gaze back to mine. “I completely understand where you’re coming from and why you feel the way you do, but you have to back off.” She holds up a hand to preempt my objection. “Listen, I don’t know what you did to even open her up to the possibility of anyone but you, but you do. She didn’t get there on her own. Riley is the most loyal person in the world.”