“Hey, I’ll be stupid if I want to.” I would’ve leaned over and kissed him, but I knew he would’ve thrown a fit. In the end, I simply got out of the car, gave him a wink and a wave, and headed to the front door all by my lonesome. I texted Archer that I was here, and then I hit the doorbell for good measure.
A woman I didn’t recognize answered the door, giving me a smile as she invited me inside. Middle-aged, with a tight bun of brown hair on the top of her head. Judging from her smocks, she was a nurse—maybe a home health aid for his mother.
“You must be Jaz,” the woman spoke, offering her hand. “I’m Melinda. I take care of Bernie.” Bernie was Archer’s mom. “We were in the kitchen making cookies. Want to join us? Archer should be down in a minute.”
Because I had nothing else to do, and because I was curious, I nodded and followed her to the kitchen, where a blonde woman stood, humming as she rolled out dough right onto the granite countertop. Flour was everywhere, even on her face. Her blue eyes looked up immediately, landing on me as a smile grew on her lips.
I couldn’t help but feel warm inside, knowing she was having a good day. I wished every day she had was good, that she could be a mother to Archer instead of someone he had to bend over backward to make sure got the care she needed.
Brittany. Brittany had used her condition to her advantage, lording it over Archer’s head with the knowledge of what his dad had done. The bitch. I knew I’d wanted payback, but even I wasn’t that cruel.
Bernie stopped rolling, rubbing the back of her arm on her forehead—and thereby smudging even more flour on her face. “Hi there,” she said, moving around the counter to get a good look at me. “So you must be the girl who’s stolen my son’s heart.”
Ah, so she didn’t remember me from my last visit here. Granted, it’d been a while ago, but still. Maybe it was one of her off days. Archer had told me, on her worst days, she couldn’t even recognize him. To not know who your own son was when you looked at him…I couldn’t imagine how that felt, for her or him.
She didn’t come to hug me, but she did appraise me as she set her hands on her hips. Melinda stood in the background, checking the oven. A nice aroma lifted in the air; a batch must already be inside.
“You are beautiful, aren’t you?” she spoke.
“Mom,” Archer spoke from the stairwell, taking two steps at a time to hurry and take his place by my side.
She blinked. “What? I’m only speaking the truth. Look at her. No one here is blind. She is much prettier than that other girl you used to bring around. I’m so glad you two aren’t together anymore.” With a smile, she returned to her cookie dough, leaving me to glance at Archer.
Archer shrugged.
His mom didn’t know about the fact that Brittany was dead then. Right.
“And I’m sure she’s much nicer, too,” Bernie remarked, grabbing what looked to be a bowl full of chocolate chips. “That other girl had a mean streak to her I just didn’t like.”
Archer grabbed my hand, starting to pull me towards the stairs.
“I’ll bring you guys up some cookies when they’re done!” Bernie shouted after us.
We made it to his room, and he closed the door, sighing before turning to me with an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry about her,” he said, sheepish. Not a good look on him. There was nothing to be embarrassed about; I thought his mom was nice.
And, you know, it killed me inside to know she wasn’t like this every day and the doctors couldn’t figure out why.
“Don’t be,” I said. “Your mom is sweet.”
He smiled at me, though there were no dimples behind it. It wasn’t a real smile; it was a sad, depressing smile that I wished I could make better. If I could wave a magic wand and save his mom from whatever it was affecting her head, I would. I’d leave his father to rot, though.
I looked around the room. It appeared much the same as I remembered it being. The desk where we’d studied, where I’d thrown all caution to the wind and gave myself to him. The