Hopefully it would be a conversation-stopper.
* * *
Ben waited as the pizzas were placed in front of them and Sarah chatted to the waiter, then raised his eyebrows when the conversation finally ceased and the young man left their table.
‘You’re probably eligible for the record for the longest time spent discussing green olives.’
‘Ha-ha! Actually, I was genuinely interested.’
Her lofty tone brought a smile to his lips—one that widened as he saw the answering reluctant smile on hers. ‘So it’s nothing to
do with you wanting to change the topic of conversation?’
‘Nope. This is delicious,’ she added. ‘Why don’t you try yours? Then we can discuss black olives as well.’
‘Actually, I’d rather go back to our previous discussion.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t. Just leave it.’
‘I can’t.’
He could see that something was tearing into her pride in the job she’d done, and he sensed that whatever it was had prevented her from pursuing a life of her own. He hoped it wasn’t the belief that she couldn’t be a good single mum and have a career.
‘You can. Really you can. For example, did you know that black olives are just riper green olives? See, that is way more interesting than talking about me.’
‘Nope. It really isn’t. Come on. Humour me. Let’s just look at the vacancies at head office.’
She gusted out a sigh. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Because I hate to see all your potential wasted.’ As his mother’s had been. ‘Because I don’t want you to look back and regret lost opportunities.’ As he worried his mother had.
‘I won’t. If I miss out, I’ll accept that it’s my own choice.’
‘That doesn’t stop regret.’
She placed her slice of pizza down and studied his expression. ‘This really matters to you,’ she said. ‘Why?’
‘I told you about my parents’ divorce—how my mum didn’t do so well in the settlement. No house, no money...just me.’
It was hard to keep the bitterness from his voice. His mother loved him, he knew that, but he also knew she’d had no choice but to take him. There had been no one else.
‘After the divorce she tried to get a job—any job—but no one would employ her because she had no experience, and because she wanted hours that fitted around me. She tried everything. She ended up cleaning the houses of her so-called old friends for a pittance. One even employed her to serve at her dinner parties, to kowtow to the people with whom she’d once eaten. But that wasn’t enough to pay the rent. We ended up in hostels, and once nearly on the streets, until we managed to get a council house.’
And he’d hated every minute. He’d known that somehow it was all his fault. But he’d made up for it. Now his mother lived in the lap of luxury.
‘So that’s why it’s important to me that you fulfil your potential and consider a job that is right for you. My mother was and is bright and capable—she deserved a chance. Shouldn’t have been penalised because of me.’
‘No, she shouldn’t have been. But you know it wasn’t your fault, right?’
Dammit.
‘Of course I know that.’
But the words sounded hollow, even to himself, and he could see both understanding and compassion in her brown eyes. For a second he wanted to lose himself in that, and then panic jolted through him—he’d shared what he’d shared for a reason.
‘But this isn’t about me. It’s about you.’
‘And I really appreciate you telling me. But I promise you my reason for not searching for a better job isn’t because of Jodie, and I’m sorry if I misled you.’