I would happily endure a million nosy vloggers all day, every day, if I had Callum in my line of view. If I could look up and see him flashing a half smile at me from the window of his food truck.
Mom’s voice pulls me back to the present. “Those bloggers or vloggers or whatever they’re called are certainly irritating. But I don’t think that’s the only reason why you’re so sad.”
When she inquired on the first day why everyone kept asking me about Callum, I froze. I never wanted to tell her about us, even when I thought we had lost our festival prize and I was about to force myself to come clean. I brushed off her question, saying the vloggers were desperate for a story and making things up about us. She nodded and didn’t mention it again. But for a split second there was that knowing look in her eyes, like she could tell I was hiding something. She gives me that same look right now.
“I’m not sad, Mom. I just miss Lemon.”
An eyebrow raise is all my explanation gets. It was the same eyebrow raise she gave me when she asked about Lemon not being at the condo anymore and I mumbled some half-assed excused about Penelope wanting to take her for a while. In actuality, Lemon is still with Callum because she just happened to be staying with him when we ended everything between us. I haven’t had the nerve to reach out to him and ask if I can see her or if we could somehow resume some sort of fair visitation schedule. The pain from our split is still too raw.
“I’m your mom. I know when you’re sad. And I also know that it’s because of a very tall, very handsome English boy.”
My eyes go wide, but I rein them back in after a blink. “Mom, I told you, that’s not . . .”
She flashes her best deadpan stare. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it. Not since I was seventeen and she walked in on me curled up in a ball on the floor of my bedroom, thoroughly hungover after a night of sneaking alcohol at my best friend’s house.
“Nicole Elise DiMarco, I may be from a different generation, but I’m no fool. I know when my daughter’s in love, just like I know when she’s not telling me the truth.”
There’s a pop in my jaw as it falls open. I snap my mouth shut.
Her hand falls over mine. Both her eyes and her tone turn tender. “Did you really think I didn’t notice what you were doing all those nights you went out? Did you think I didn’t notice all those times at work when I caught you smiling to yourself for no reason at all?”
“But . . . how?”
“I caught you two looking at each other a few times at the food truck. Whenever you saw each other in those moments, you just looked so happy. I knew something was going on.” Her burnt umber eyes fall to her lap. “And then the other day Mrs. Tokushige sent me all these links to videos about what happened at the festival between you and Callum. She was so worried about you, how you were dealing with all this.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding. “Oh.”
Patting my hand, she flashes a small smile. “The way he looked at you those times I noticed, it’s the same way your dad would look at me. You can’t fake that sort of feeling, that love. And you can’t hide it for very long either.”
She motions for me to drink the rest of the water in my glass. I do even though my head is spinning. My face heats at all the times she spotted my smug expression after a night with Callum. I had zero clue.
“Wow, Mom. I’m a little embarrassed at how I underestimated you.”
She swipes the glass from the table and refills it at the sink. She turns to look at me. “You should be more embarrassed at how you two ended it with each other.” Again she sighs. “It’s no surprise you pushed him away. You’ve been pushing everyone away ever since your dad died. Except me.”
I’m speechless once more, just a string of stutters and breaths.
When she looks up at me again, her eyes glisten. “Your dad would be so sad to know that he made you this afraid of love.”