The two women share a private look.
“Sure,” Virginia says slowly. “Maybe an inauguration gift for Elijah. You are coming tomorrow, aren’t you, Addison?”
“No.” I clear the cobwebs from my throat. “No, I…we thought it was for the best. The attention should be on all the good things he’s doing. Not on…his relationship, right?”
Della is nonplussed. “Public focus is always on the relationship.”
“Maybe in the beginning,” I say quickly, cement filling my throat. “But eventually they lose interest and focus on something else…”
They wait politely when I trail off, but I do nothing to occupy the silence. What would I say? I’m not going to the inauguration because I’ll make a misstep or wear the wrong thing and it’ll reflect poorly on Elijah? That doesn’t bode well for any kind of future at all. And if there is no future, what exactly am I doing with him? “Um.” I shake myself and walk through the women, toward a different display. “Elijah would probably laugh if you bought him one of these as a gift. He glued the eyes on himself.”
“My son glued the eyes onto a stuffed snowman?” She can’t hide her genuine surprise. And pleasure, too, I think. “How on earth did you convince him to do that?”
“I didn’t have to.” Thinking of him sprawled on my old guest room bed, fingers connected by threads of hot glue, I smile. “He makes me save him the big buttons. Everything else slips out of his fingers.”
A smile blooms across her face, but she subdues it quickly when Naomi’s mother steps even with her. She’s holding a Cookie Monster in a Santa hat. “I’ll take one of these for Naomi. Cookie Monster was always a favorite when she was a little girl.”
All the blood drains from my face at the mention of Elijah’s ex-fiancée. “Sure,” I force out, taking the ornament from her. “I’ll just ring that up—”
“It’s so nice having her back home.” I receive a pointed look. “If everything had worked out the way it was supposed to, there would have been no question of her attendance at the inauguration.”
“No, I’m sure there wouldn’t have been,” I respond, my voice hard. It’s one thing to be intimidated by Elijah’s mother, but I’m not backing down from this woman who clearly holds my mother’s actions against me. I’m surrounded by my grandmother’s memory and I’m not going to disappoint the only family who never let me down. “Playing the what-if game is a little pointless now though, considering she left the best man I’ve ever known at the altar.”
“She knows it was a mistake,” she hisses at me. “I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before she gets enough courage to make amends.”
Virginia jolts when her friend elbows her, dragging her attention from the ornament in her hand. “Yes, I’m sure Elijah will be…amendable to speaking with Naomi.”
“Cold feet are not uncommon,” slides in Della. “I think the mayor will be willing to forgive when it means he can have someone capable of standing by his side.”
“Really? She couldn’t do it in a church.”
My snap back is greeted by the gasp of the millennium.
“Della.” Virginia puts a hand on her friend’s arm. “I think we’ve taken up enough of Miss Potts’ time.”
“Potts.” Naomi’s mother laughs without humor, passing Elijah’s mother an encouraging look. “Now would be a good time to mention Elijah’s low approval ratings.”
“What?” My blood was only beginning to heat, but now it’s back to being ice cold. I seek out Virginia’s eyes, but it takes her a second to look at me. “What is she talking about?”
She straightens, any glimpse of kindness I thought I saw before long gone. “It’s true. His numbers are worse than they’ve been since early in the campaign and…” Her nod is resolute. “There’s some speculation that it’s your doing.”
I’m being swallowed by a giant suck hole. It’s taking me down, down, stomach first. Please, God. Don’t let this be true. I will do anything. “Are you sure? He was on television last week and they didn’t bring up low numbers—or me—at all.”
Della scoffs. “Well, of course not. Fastball isn’t the venue for such a personal discussion. It’s the public that matters, though. It’s the public they poll.”
Elijah’s mother is staring off down the bustling market aisle. “I’m sorry, Addison. In their eyes, you’re living in sin and flaunting convention. Such thinking might be old-fashioned, but my husband and now my son have made the decision to serve the public. Public opinion matters.”
I want to pick up my things and run. Hide. I want to curl up and cry at the very possibility I could damage Elijah’s career. But none of it makes sense. It does not make sense. Elijah comes home to me every night smiling. I can see him laughing in the pillows of our bed, dragging me over to him for long, lazy kisses. I can hear the resolution in his tone when he tells me he doesn’t give a damn about the judgment of others. If I was tanking his approval rating, he wouldn’t keep it from me, because I’d go nuclear when I found out, right?