He was too nice to say otherwise.
As soon as she could walk without hobbling, she’d get out of his house. She’d decide where she wanted to make a home base, get an apartment and figure out her shit. Once she did that, maybe she could start working on that list of things she’d never done.
A knock on the front door startled Amanda out of her thoughts, giving her a welcome respite from her own hyperactive brain.
Landon’s mother, Molly, stuck her head in. “Just me with dinner. Don’t get up.”
“Come in. Please tell me you didn’t come out in this storm just to bring me dinner.”
“Oh, this is nothing. There’s an old Vermont saying that if you don’t go out in bad weather, you’ll never go out.”
“Still. It’s very nice of you.”
“I thought of you home alone while Landon is out with the search-and-rescue team and thought you might like some company.”
To her dismay, Molly’s kindness had Amanda crying again. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I have any tears left. I’ve done nothing but cry since the fire. I cry at commercials on TV.”
“That’s totally understandable.” With her usual efficiency, Molly removed her boots and coat and carried in a tote bag. “You had a terrible scare, and it’s only natural you’d be upset afterward.”
It was so much more than the fire, not that Amanda could tell Molly that.
“I’ll put your dinner in the oven on warm, and you can have it when you’re ready. It’s pot roast.”
“Thank you so much. It smells delicious.” She choked on a sob and pulled yet another tissue from the box Landon had gotten for her. “I’m so sorry about the waterworks. Landon says I’m like a hot spring.”
Molly smiled and came to sit next to her. As always, Molly’s long gray hair was braided, and her pretty, youthful face belied the fact that she’d raised ten children. “You look like you could use a hug from a professional mom. Would that help?”
Wanting that more than anything, Amanda nodded and went willingly into the arms of Landon’s mother.
“My poor, sweet girl. It’s only natural you’d be emotional after what you’ve been through.”
“The fire was so frightening, but it’s not just that.”
“If you need to talk to someone, I’m more than happy to listen.” Molly pulled back and straightened Amanda’s hair. “And I promise whatever we talk about stays between us.”
Amanda desperately needed to talk to someone, and she’d already cried all over Landon for days. “I’d like to talk about it.” Maybe if she did, she might be able to stop crying every five minutes. After another pause, she forced herself to say the words. “I had something happen, twelve years ago. It was a very big something that I don’t ever talk about.”
Molly only listened, which Amanda appreciated.
“After that, it was like I shut down. I threw myself into school and then work.” She wiped away new tears with yet another tissue. “I did really well in my job, became my company’s top salesperson. I traveled almost nonstop from one trade show to another, from one product install to another, kept my head down and just powered through. And then the fire happened, and since then… It’s like everything I refused to feel for all those years is trying to get out all at once, and I think that’s why I can’t seem to stop crying.”
“That’s a lot to process on top of the fire.”
“It is, and Landon has been an absolute saint about it. I’m sure he’s regretting asking me to stay with him after days of histrionics.”
“I doubt that. He’s enjoying having you here.”
“He is? How do you know that?”
“Because he told me so when I helped him pick out clothes for you at the store.”
“Thank you for doing that.” Amanda wiped yet another flood of tears. “Everyone has been so kind. Your family is amazing.”
“That’s nice to hear. I’m glad you think so.”
“Everyone thinks so.”
“I’m proud of them.”
“It helps to talk to someone. Thank you. I haven’t wanted to unload on my own mom or my friends because they aren’t here, and it would upset them, and Landon has done enough for me.”
“I’m happy to listen, sweetheart, and you’re right. It would upset them. There’s nothing worse than knowing one of your babies is hurting and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
Nodding, Amanda wiped tears from eyes that felt raw and achy. “I want you to know, this isn’t me at all. I’m not a basket case, I swear. I’m