Meant To Be (Coming Home To The Grove 2) - Page 8

Dinner turns out to be an easygoing affair, and it’s the first time I’m able to relax and let my guard down around my mother. We talk about her lunch today with her friends, and they of course want to hear the whole story of how I came across little Chris at Peach Park.

Wanting to change the subject, I ask them about my brother Bart. “How’s Bart doing? I haven’t talked to him in a few weeks.”

“He’s lead detective on some case, and we haven’t talked to him much lately,” my dad says.

“Well, at least he’s not doing undercover work anymore. The last time he came home he looked like some kind of homeless man,” my mother chimes in.

I want to remind her that the case he went undercover for also helped bring in ten missing children. Surely she can overlook the fact that he had to not shave and probably skip bathing to do his job. But by the way her nose is still scrunched up, I’m guessing not. At least I’m not the only one she picks on for keeping up appearances. The only difference is, Bart doesn’t care what people think. He’s always been that way. He does what he thinks is right and goes on about his business.

Man, I wish I was just a little bit like him. Instead, I’m always trying to please everyone.

I help clear the dishes from the table and go into the kitchen to help them clean up. “Go ahead, Dad. I can help Mom,” I tell him.

I can tell he’s surprised, probably because I always try to never be alone with Mom, but I know I have to try if I want to improve our relationship.

He gives me a brief hug before walking out.

Mom and I work silently, and it isn’t until we’re almost done that I realize no matter what I do, it’s never going to be good enough for my mom.

“With so much attention you’re getting it would be great for finding a husband. If only you were a little thinner and of course still enrolled at the university so you’d have something to offer a man.”

Instead of arguing with her like I normally do, I stare back at her in shock. Did she really just say that?

I finish wiping down the counter and go to bed early with a soft “goodnight” to my mother.ScottI could barely sleep even though I am off today. I could be sleeping in, but I had every intention of getting to Patty Cakes Bakery early so I could talk to Carrie. I wanted to get here before the morning rush. It seems the best time to be able to talk to her.

But she seems down. She’s still smiling at me, but it barely reaches her eyes.

“Hey, Sheriff.”

I start to interrupt her, but she laughs a little and says, “I mean Scott. What can I get you?”

“Your coffee. Or my regular. Well, the coffee you made me yesterday.” I stumble through the words but finally get them out. I almost slap my hand to my forehead. Get it together, Scott.

She fixes my coffee and brings it to me with a small sliver of what looks like pie. She sets the plate and up in front of me. “You don’t have to eat it, but you sort of challenged me. I’m trying out some recipes. If you want to try a bite and just let me know what you think.”

She’s smiling the whole time, and there’s no way I’m going to turn her down. I take a bite of the dish, and it does taste good. “It’s good,” I tell her.

She purses her lips together. “Good? Okay. I’ll work on it.”

I take another bite, hating that I’ve upset her. “No, it’s good. Really good.”

She reaches out to touch me but then pulls back. “No, your first reaction is always the right one. It’s okay,” she says, waving her hand in front of me. “I’m going to find something that you would like to eat in the mornings. You can’t skip breakfast, not with the job you do. So tell me, what do you like to eat normally?”

I hate that I let her think I don’t like the treat she seemed to have made just for me. It is good. “Uh, I dunno, I like steak and potatoes. You can’t go wrong with that. I like Mexican food; it’s probably my favorite.”

She’s nodding, taking it all in.

We talk for a little bit, and I learn that she was a tomboy growing up. “Yep, I spent a lot of time with my dad. He always took me hunting and fishing. I’m actually a really good shot.”

Her mood seems to have improved since I first walked in, so I decide to go through with my plan. I’m going to ask her out.

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