My mother patted my hand. "You are gorgeous, brilliant and talented," she said, "but sometimes you need a little help."
* * *
AVERY
I watched warily as Martha entered the kitchen. "So Eric told you?" I wiped down a countertop that was already clean. "I overheard. I figure I wouldn't be so good at pretending I hadn't."
She nodded at me sympathetically. "I am not one to judge, hon. I've only met you tonight, but I can already tell you're much nicer than that Jessica. She was a real piece of work." She sat down on one of the barstools and watched as I prepared a skirt steak for Chase. "Can I help? I can make a salad just the way he likes."
I nodded at her, feeling guarded. "Sure." What I wanted to say was that I would love to know how to make Chase's favorite salad because I wanted—more than anything—to be able to do those sorts of things for him, even though I was a prostitute from the wrong side of the tracks. Even though there was an expiration date on our relationship. On our fake relationship.
Martha got up and assembled a line of vegetables, and then settled herself back down at the island with a cutting board. She chopped calmly, and the silence was not uncomfortable. "So," she said, "do you love my son?"
"Huh?"
She looked up and pursed her lips. "You might as well answer."
I leaned back against the countertop and blew out a defeated breath. Now I understood why Chase had looked panicked when she'd shown up on his doorstep.
"I genuinely respect and care for your son, Mrs. Layne."
She went back to the vegetables. "But?"
"But I don't think that I'm the right person for him, even though I wish I was." Saying it out loud made my heart hurt.
"I'm happy to see that you're feeding him. At least you got that part right." Martha concentrated on chopping a cucumber—then the carrots, then the mushrooms, then the beets. I had no idea what she was thinking. I also had no idea that Chase enjoyed beets, which I found foreign and vaguely disgusting. After a few minutes, she raised her eyes to meet mine as she put the vegetables neatly into the salad bowl. "I've never seen my son like this with a woman before," she said.
I started. "What about Jessica? He said that he was so into her in the beginning that he didn't see all the screaming, neon signs that she was trouble."
"Jessica was a pain from the beginning. Chase didn't see it, that's true. But that's because I think she did some things for him in bed that nobody else had done before." I felt myself start to blush, and Martha shook her head at me. "I don't like to stick my nose too far into my son's personal life. I'm just telling you what I saw. And what I see now."
I crossed my arms against my chest. "So what do you see now?" That stupid, hopeful bird was fluttering around my chest again, suddenly frenzied.
I was going to have to take it out back and shoot it sooner rather than later.
"He proposed to Jessica because she gave him an ultimatum. He also thought she made him look good. I think with that relationship, my son made the mistake of being more rational than emotional. The opposite is true with you. I can tell he cares about you even though he knows it's not the right thing for his career. That's not like my son. Nothing is more important to Chase than football."
I nodded at her, feeling miserable.
She regarded me for a moment. "Do you love my son? I'm not going to ask you again."
I tried to keep my face mask-like. But what the hell? Was the truth going to hurt any more than another lie?
"Of course I love him," I said finally. "But I don't want to love him."
Martha nodded and adjusted her lavender-framed glasses. "It's nice to see that my son actually does have good taste. After that Jessica, I had some real questions." She turned toward the living room. "Chase!" She hollered. "Dinner!"
* * *
CHASE
When she left later that night, my mother only had one thing to say about Avery. "She's good people." She patted me on the arm. "I approve, dear. You should always run them by me first. I'm your mother, and I really do know best."
"So you…like her?"
Martha nodded. "You can't always choose who you love. And I don't think it's wise to judge someone's circumstances so harshly. That doesn't mean this is going to be easy. But I'm also assuming a lot right now by even saying that."
"What do you mean?"