To Get Me to You (Wishful 1)

Well, if Molly wasn’t going to be embarrassed about this, neither would she. Head aching, Norah obediently followed her orders. She deliberately avoided looking in the mirror above the pedestal sink, not wanting to see the damage her crying jag had wrought. On top of all the strain she’d been under the last couple of weeks, she knew it wasn’t pretty. The cool water felt wonderful against her puffy cheeks as she rinsed off whatever remained of her makeup. Despite the headache, she felt steadier than when she’d arrived.

Molly didn’t turn as Norah came into the kitchen and sat at the island. As she bustled around the room, putting on the kettle and pulling out mugs, Molly said, “You are absolutely not obligated to tell me what that was about. But if you want an ear, you’ve got mine.”

“Thank you.” Norah tried to remember the last time her own mother had taken the time to listen and comfort. “Normally, I’d talk to Miranda.”

“Hard to do that when she’s related to the problem.”

Norah started to speak, then closed her mouth.

Molly looked faintly amused. “You’ve been away for two weeks and you’re here instead of there. I’m assuming Cam is at least a contributing factor.” She set a cup of tea and a couple of aspirin on the counter.

“You could say that.” Norah wrapped her hands around the mug, absorbed the warmth. “It’s been a really lousy couple of weeks.”

“First rough patch with the two of you?”

Norah scowled. “It’s not just that, but yeah. He’s being an idiot.”

Molly smiled. “Oh, men are good at th

at. I should know. I raised three. And they’re usually convinced they’re right.” As the buzzer went off, she turned to take her cake out of the oven.

“He’s definitely not.”

“Did you tell him that?”

Norah sipped the tea, while Molly puttered with the bundt pan and cake rack. “Didn’t get a chance.” He’d been too busy acting like they’d already had the fight and it was done and this was how things were going to be. And that was so very strange.

After everything he’d gone through to get past her defenses so she’d give their relationship a legitimate try, every gesture, big and small, that proved he cared, why on God’s green earth would he come all the way to Chicago and not confront her over what he’d heard?

“There’s very little more annoying than being deprived of a good fight.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure. I mean, you wouldn’t want to fight all the time—that’s not healthy—but sometimes it’s the same as having a good cry. You need to clear the air, get out whatever’s festering.”

Had she ever heard her parents fight? Norah didn’t think so. They’d always had a completely civil relationship.

“In my family, fighting falls under the same heading as crying: Things Burkes do not do. Arguments are very calm, rational affairs. And, you know what? You’re right. They aren’t satisfying at all.”

“Nobody ever had great make up sex after a civil debate.”

Norah’s eyes popped wide and she burst out laughing. “That’s probably true.”

“I’ve got nearly forty years of marriage to back me up.” Molly slid plates of cake in front of each of them and sat. “If somebody’s not worth fighting with from time to time, the relationship probably isn’t worth fighting for.”

“Which is why you have nearly forty years of marriage and my parents crashed and burned after twelve.”

“Relationships are all about balance. Wants. Needs. Family. Career. Everybody has a struggle figuring out what their tipping point is. We were lucky that we stumbled on ours early on. Juggling four kids and a full-time job wouldn’t have been possible without that.”

“Four kids and a full-time job?” Norah goggled at her. “My parents couldn’t seem to even manage just me and their careers. They could independently save the world, or they could do the family thing. Not both.”

“Well, it helped that the career was already established and that we bypassed the baby stage. We adopted all four. But I guess the real clincher is having a true partner. My John was a real trooper. He passed a little over a year ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Norah laid a hand over Molly’s and squeezed.

“Thank you, honey. I miss him every day. But we found each other early—childhood sweethearts—so I consider myself blessed.”

Norah sighed. “I want to be you when I grow up.”