Mrs. Blanton gives me a funny look. “Um, maybe because you’ve been her best friend for a good six years now? Maybe because you live with her. Or, wait, I know, because you came on our family vacation…”
No mention of the sex. The excellent, amazing, mind-blowing sex.
I don’t say this last part out loud. Obviously.
“She’s good,” I say.
Parker’s mom absently grabs a cucumber slice from the board and turns to face the window, her eyes on her daughter. “I’ve been worried about her.”
I glance over. “Yeah?”
“I’m worried she’s not dealing with her pain. Not even acknowledging it.”
Pain? Parker’s in pain? I swear to God, I’ll hurt whomever—
Sandra keeps talking, oblivious to my flash of rage. “I’m all for her embracing this single-girl phase in her life, but it’s just, well…did Parker ever tell you she thought she was going to marry Lance?”
My hand jerks then, and I have to take a deep breath before continuing. Then, on second thought, I put the knife down. We have plenty of fucking vegetables.
I reach for my beer, which will better prepare me for this conversation than carrots.
The thought of Parker marrying Lance…blech.
“She seems to be doing okay with the breakup,” I say, dodging the marriage reference altogether.
“Yeah, but that’s just the thing,” Mrs. Blanton says, pursing her lips. “Doesn’t that seem odd to you? They dated for four years, almost five years, and toward the end there, she started talking about how he was the one.”
My beer doesn’t seem be settling well in my stomach so I put it aside. “Do you think Lance was…the one, or whatever?”
She hesitates. “Well, it’s not up to me, is it? But he seemed like a good enough sort. Made her happy.”
Did he?
I think back, trying to ignore the last two months in which Lance had all but ignored Parker.
I guess Mrs. Blanton’s right.
Parker had been happy with the guy. Or at least, pretty damn content. The two of them had never fought much, he’d taken her on date nights…they’d been completely compatible, in a sort of boring, rigid kind of way.
It’s strange, but after that first night, when Parker cried her eyes out and I wanted to gouge Lance’s eyes in revenge, I realize that I haven’t done much thinking about her ex.
For that matter, it doesn’t seem like Parker has done much thinking about her ex, but maybe Mrs. Blanton’s right.
Maybe that’s a problem.
“She’ll find someone new,” I say. “Someone better.”
“She will. And I don’t want her to rush it. It’s just…I want her to have someone who’s there for her.”
I glance at Sandra.
It’s an odd sort of thing to say about an independent twenty-something woman with a solid job and a thriving social life, but maybe it has something to do with the whole surviving-cancer thing.
I sometimes forget that the woman beside me stared death in the face. It makes sense that she’d have done some thinking about what life for her only child might be like without her.
“She has me,” I say quietly.
Sandra gives me a surprised look. “Oh, Ben, sweetie. I know that!” She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “It’s just…Parker’s your number one girl now, and you’ll always be there for her, but as a mom, I can’t help but thinkthinking about the day when you and Parker meet your true loves, and things change.”