The Right One - Felice Stevens Page 0,83
make. I never did learn how to cook. Your father did all that, and if he was going to be late and couldn’t make your dinnertime, I’d make you grilled cheese and tomato soup. You learned how to make it by watching and always wanted to help.”
He flipped the sandwich, admiring the golden crust. “I don’t make it too often now.”
“You should,” Morgan said, peering over his shoulder. “Looks like you still have your touch. That looks delicious. You’ll definitely have to teach me how.”
“Happy to give you private lessons.” He checked the bread, and finding it ready, turned off the heat and transferred it to the plate. After cutting it in half, he placed it in front of her. “Here you go.”
“I’ll get you a drink, Mrs. O’Toole.” Natalia squeezed his arm and filled a glass from the bottle of sparkling water. “It smells wonderful, Leo.”
His mother took a bite, set the sandwich on the plate, and wiped her mouth. “It’s very good. As good as I remember.” More tears sprang to her eyes, and Leo’s chest tightened. He’d have to be a monster not to feel sympathy. And contrary to how diffident he’d been initially, he was glad to be there and see her eat, even if it was only a grilled-cheese sandwich.
“Don’t cry. You’ll get the bread wet.” He sat across from her, with Morgan taking the chair next to him.
Between her sniffles, she ate the entire sandwich. “I know you don’t really want to be here. You’re only visiting because I’m your mother and you feel an obligation.”
Morgan shifted in his seat, and Leo could only imagine how hard it was for him to remain quiet. Deliberately, he put his arm around Morgan’s shoulders. “I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. Not anymore. I’m a grown man, and I decided it was time to stop dwelling on the past when I have a future to look forward to.”
“And your future is with him?”
Leo wasn’t going to stand for Morgan being reduced to a pronoun.
“Morgan, Mom. His name is Morgan. And yes. It is. He’s helped me understand what’s important.”
Her fingers trembled. “Am I one of those things?”
“We’ll have to see.” He never was a bullshit artist or someone to sugarcoat the truth. “I don’t know yet. I’m still figuring it all out.”
A fat tear slid down her cheek. “Then I’ll have to be grateful you still come to see me.”
“You’re my mother. I couldn’t not see you, especially now.”
She blinked rapidly, and one of her eyelashes had loosened, but Leo didn’t have the heart to tell her, so she gazed back at him with her features slightly askew.
“I never thought I’d end up being an obligation.”
Already teetering on the edge, Leo’s control snapped. “What do you want me to do? Forget everything that happened? I’m doing the best I can here.” Angry and ashamed he’d given in to the outburst, he pressed his lips together.
She twisted her hands around and around, the paper napkin shredding to bits between them. “Thank you. And you too, Morgan.”
The change in her demeanor shocked him into momentary silence. He couldn’t recall those words ever coming past her lips.
“You’re welcome,” Morgan said, and Leo could hear the eagerness in his voice. He knew how much Morgan wanted him to have a relationship with his mother, but it wasn’t a simple matter of forgive and forget. At least not for him. And dammit, why did he feel so fucking guilty about it?
“I think we’d better go. Morgan hasn’t even been home since he left school.”
They stood, and he hesitated for a moment, then bent and brushed her cheek with his lips.
“Bye, Mom. Bye, Natalia. We’ll see you soon.”
Holding Morgan’s hand in a death grip, Leo didn’t speak again until they were by his bike at the curb.
To his surprise, Morgan hugged him tight. “I’m so proud of you. I know how hard it must’ve been for you to swallow all that resentment. How do you feel?”
“Pretty good.” Surprisingly so. “I doubt we’ll ever have the kind of relationship you and your mother have, but I think maybe I can talk to her now without the past standing in the way of every conversation. It’s a start, right?”
“Absolutely.” Morgan’s eyes shone bright. “Everything has to have a beginning. There isn’t just one right way.”
“I love your optimism.” Without Morgan, Leo would’ve continued to spend his life painted into a corner of shadows and darkness. Morgan truly was his light.
“Is that all