Not You It's Me (Boston Love #1) - Julie Johnson Page 0,74
slips were signed, too flighty and eccentric to be friends with the other mothers. You were more organized than I was when you were just seven years old. Most days, there was only one adult in this house and, baby, it wasn’t me.”
“Mom…” I whisper, my voice soft.
I don’t correct her, though. It’s the truth.
“Gemma, what I’m trying to say is, you’ve never let yourself be a kid. Your whole life, you’ve listened to your head over your heart — talked yourself out of finishing art school because it wasn’t practical to have debt, told yourself to put off opening your own gallery because you didn’t want to give up your job benefits, decided to sell other peoples’ art because it was a safer bet than trying to sell your own. And it’s no secret you’ve only ever picked emotionally unavailable men, because there’s no chance of ever getting your heart broken.”
I stare at her. “Is there a point to all of this?”
She sighs. “You pick practicality over passion — you always have. And maybe that’s my fault, for leaving too many responsibilities on your shoulders when you were too young to deal with them.” Her eyes are glossy with unshed tears. “I’m sorry for that, baby girl. I truly am. If I could go back and do things differently, I would.”
She takes a deep breath, her hands squeezing the sides of my face.
“Life is a big, fat mess. There’s no order or reason to most of what’ll happen to you before you turn to dust and fade from memory, and there’s nothing you can do about that. All you can do is find someone who turns that abstract chaos into a work of art… and never let them go.”
“Mom…” I say, my voice breaking.
She’s holding back tears. “I don’t know if that man waiting in our driveway is the one for you — only time can tell you that. But I do know that you deserve love, more than anyone on this earth, and it’ll find you eventually, even if you keep trying to avoid it.” She stares into my eyes, her expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “My only advice is, when you start to fall, don’t talk yourself out of it — the right man will be there at the bottom, to catch you. Take a risk on messy. Live fearlessly. Love recklessly. Most of all, just love.”
***
“You’re quiet.”
Chase’s words startle me back into the present. I glance over at him, taking in the sight of his profile as he steers the Porsche with practiced ease. No town car, today — Chase gave Evan the day off, when he decided to drive up to Rocky Neck. Apparently, he doesn’t like to use the chauffeur unless he has to — which, unfortunately for him, is most of the time, now that he lives in the city. He’s assured me Knox will pick up my car later tonight and deliver it back to my apartment before I even notice it’s missing.
I’m unconcerned — I barely use it, anyway — and besides, I’m too wrapped up replaying my mother’s parting words over and over in my mind to worry much about my crappy car. So wrapped up, in fact, that forty-five silent minutes pass without my noticing. We’re nearly back to the city when Chase looks over at me, his eyebrows raised in concern.
I can’t blame him — I don’t think I’ve ever been quiet this long, in the history of my existence.
“Everything okay?”
“Sorry.” I sigh. “I was just thinking about my Mom.”
“Do you see her often?”
“Not as often as I should, considering she only lives an hour away.”
“She’s not what I expected.” He shakes his head, a smile playing out on his lips. “When my secretary came into my office this morning, saying she had a Miss Summers on the line, I thought it was you.”
I laugh, at that. “Full of surprises, my mother.”
“And full of life.” His smile widens. “You two act more like sisters than mother and daughter.”
“She’s been my built-in best friend since I was born.” My voice is wistful. “She was always the cool mom — my high school friends would come over to hang with her, even when I wasn’t home. There were always people filtering in and out — musicians, artists, other eclectics she brought home like strays.” I grin. “They say it takes a village to raise a child. Mom took that expression pretty literally.”