A Shattered Moment (Fractured Lives 1)

“You’re normal, too,” he said, holding me by the shoulders.

“Yeah, but normal enough to meet new people?” I hated to sound insecure, but it was hard enough to feel comfortable with him, let alone his entire family.

“Trust me. They’re going to love you. How could they not?”

“Oh, I don’t know. All my baggage?”

He shook my shoulders lightly. “You have to stop kicking yourself, Mac. How can I make you see what we all see?”

His voice was kind, but the words were filled with steel. “It might take some brain surgery,” I said. There was a thin line between knowing you had issues and doing something about them, but from my point of view, that line might as well have been the Grand Canyon.

“Well, I’m an EMT, not a surgeon, but I can get a hammer. How about that?” he joked, pretending to pound my head.

“I might just let you do that,” I said, resting my head on his chest. I exhaled deeply as I finally conceded. “Look, I’ll try. It’s just going to take time for me, okay?”

“Good. I’ll pick you up by noon.” He kissed me deeply. His tongue claimed mine and I pulled him closer, wanting more. Locked in his embrace, I found it easy to forget about everything other than the two of us together. That was one way to get through meeting his family. We could just make out the entire time.

The next day I was in major freak-out mode. My room looked like a cyclone-induced wasteland with discarded clothes strewn everywhere. My door had a full-length mirror hanging on the back and today it seemed someone had secretly replaced it with a funhouse mirror. Nothing I tried on looked good. This had never been an issue for me before. The frustration of facing yet another thing that terrified me had taken its toll.

Mom opened my door after knocking lightly. She found me sitting on the floor in the middle of a large pile of clothes, looking completely disheveled.

“Mac, honey, is everything okay?” she asked carefully.

“Oh, sure. I’m only supposed to meet my boyfriend’s family today. I look totally ready, don’t I?” An unexpected lump developed in my throat. I swallowed hard, refusing to cry in front of her.

“Oh, sweetie,” she said, stepping through the clothes to join me. She plopped down and pulled me against her, rocking back and forth. “You are a wonderful, beautiful girl. You have to know they will see that.”

“So I keep hearing, but what if you and Daddy and even Bentley are wearing blinders? What if his family sees through me and they don’t approve? What does that mean for Bentley and me? Mom, I didn’t expect it to happen, but I really like him. I don’t want to lose him now,” I said, pouring out my guts.

She pulled back and lifted my head to look in my eyes to make her point. “Mac, honey, there is nothing to see through. Who you are is what they will see, and that will be perfect because that is what you are,” she said, rubbing my shoulders. “As for Bentley, based on what I saw yesterday, that is a well-grounded young man. Your heart drew you to him for a reason, so believe in that.”

“When did you start sounding like Dad?” I asked, rubbing my eyes, which had attempted to water up at her words.

She hugged me again. “Yes, well, you can’t be married to someone for as long as your father and me and not expect something to rub off. Here, let me help you up and we’ll pick out something for you to wear.”

We selected a cute pair of jeans and one of my favorite sweaters. It was light pink and softer than a baby’s blanket. Appropriate since that’s what I’d been acting like. I gave Mom another hug before heading to the bathroom to finish getting ready.

When I returned, I was surprised to find that Mom had cleaned up the mess I left behind. All my clothes were either folded neatly or hanging in my closet. Since the accident, I had taken her for granted so much that I’d forgotten how much she had helped me in my recovery. I had spent so much time resenting her for only doing what she thought was best. Grabbing my purse, I exited my room before I could change my mind again, following the smell of coffee and bacon coming from the kitchen.

Mom was sitting at the counter sipping coffee when I entered the pristine kitchen. My mouth drooped with disappointment. It served me right for waiting until after eleven to join the living. At least there was still coffee in the pot. “Don’t you look nice,” Mom said, winking at me. “Your breakfast is in the microwave.”

“Bless you.” I opened the microwave and sniffed appreciatively. I put a small piece of bacon into my mouth before closing the door again to reheat the food. While my breakfast warmed up, I grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee.

“How did you sleep, by the way?” Mom asked as I joined her at the counter a few minutes later with my plate and coffee cup in hand.

“Okay, considering what I have in store today. Regardless, it’s nice to sleep on my nice queen bed. My bed in the dorms isn’t bad, but it’s not a pillow top.”

“Yeah, I remember hating my bed when I went to college. I think they make them small on purpose. No reason to encourage extracurricular activities,” she said, shooting me a knowing look.

“Subtle, Mom. Just when I thought you were sounding too much like Dad, the old Mom I know and love comes back with a vengeance.”

“It didn’t escape my notice that you and your young man seemed quite serious last night.” She sipped her coffee, looking at me over the top of her mug.

“Me and my young man? How old are you again?” I asked, trying to make a joke of the situation.

Mom didn’t smile as I nibbled on my bacon. “I’m just saying I want to make sure you two are being safe.”

“And the size of my bed has some bearing on us being safe?”