The Summer of No Attachments (The Summer Friends #2) - Lori Foster Page 0,112

said. “When people can’t deal with their problems, they sometimes turn to crutches—like drugs and alcohol.”

“I tried to make her happy.”

At this rate, Ivey knew there was no chance of stemming the tears. “Oh, honey. You weren’t responsible for her happiness.”

“No, you weren’t,” Corbin said. “The way it’s supposed to work, and definitely how it will work for us, is that a parent is supposed to care for their child. In your mother’s case, and in other cases, too, the parent has issues that aren’t easily solved.” He lifted Justin’s chin. “I saw your mother not too long ago.”

He startled, his eyes flaring. “You did?”

“I was going to talk to you about it soon.” Corbin cupped Justin’s cheek and used his thumb to wipe away the tears. “I put it off because I didn’t want to worry you, but like I said, that was the wrong thing to do. You and I made a deal to talk things out, right?”

Justin nodded.

“So that’s what I should have done, and I promise, I’m going to do better.”

Justin nodded. “Me, too.”

“And me,” Ivey offered, and got a slight smile from both of them.

“Your mom was in the hospital because of all the pills she’d taken. It made her really sick. She wanted to get well, and I tried to help her, but it’s not easy for an addict to stop doing what is making them sick.”

Justin’s expression was tight, wary. “That’s why she died?”

“Yes. But when I saw her, she told me how much she loved you. She said she wanted to get well, and she wanted to see you again.”

Mouth pinched, his voice very small, Justin whispered, “I didn’t want to see her.”

Ivey thought there was a big difference in Justin not wanting to see his mother as she’d been, and wanting to see her as someone who loved him. Unfortunately, the latter had never happened...and now it never would.

“It would have been your decision,” Corbin said. “But if you’d changed your mind, I wanted to help your mother to get well. Understand me, son. Only so you could visit her if you’d wanted to. I wasn’t going to let her see you without me, and I was never going to let her take you away. This is your home, and this is where we’ll be together.”

He seemed to be weighing the words, maybe trying to understand them since the concept was difficult for a child to grasp. His gaze slanted over to Ivey. “Will you be here, too?”

Overwhelmed, Ivey nodded. “I know I’m not your mother, Justin, but I love you. You’re important to me. In my heart, where it matters most, you are always going to be my son.”

He reached out to her, and she gladly embraced him. “So,” he said, sniffling again, thinking it through. He kept his face tucked close to her throat. “You’ll be like my mom now?”

She flicked a glance at Corbin, he smiled at her, and she positively melted. “Nothing in the whole world would make me happier than being your mom.”

“Okay,” he said, with a child’s simplicity.

Lang poked his head over the top of the ladder. “Hey,” he said, glancing warily at everyone.

“Come on up,” Corbin invited. “We were just working out a few things.”

Hastily, moving off of Ivey’s lap, Justin wiped his eyes and his nose.

Good old Uncle Lang produced a few tissues that he passed around to everyone, then he made a big show of dabbing at his own eyes. “Emotional night, huh?” He plopped down next to Justin, pretended to blow his nose, then let out a long sigh. “Is this where we go to cry? Because I need a place, you know.”

Justin laughed. “You don’t cry.”

“Who says?” It was Lang’s turn to snag Justin to his lap. “Anyone who is upset is allowed to cry.”

“Only if it’s something really, really bad,” Justin decreed. Then he whispered, “Or if you’re Ivey.”

Ivey choked on her laugh. “Just so you know, not all girls cry as much as I do. I just happen to be a very emotive person.”

“I guess sometimes I’m ’motive, too,” Justin decided. He narrowed his eyes. “But I’m not gonna cry much.”

Smiling, Ivey said, “I’ll probably cry enough for both of us.”

They all sat in companionable silence until Justin whispered, “I might miss Mom some.”

Corbin clasped his shoulder. “You know what we could do? Your mom gave me a box of your stuff. Pics of you when you were a little squirt, a few things you’d drawn over the