I had paid for a couple of things. One of which was currently burning a hole in my pocket, but I saved it. I was giving it to her on my birthday. “You know…ever since we came back, she’s where I’ve wanted to be.”
“She was where you wanted to be when we were gone,” Mom reminded me gently, and I gave a little shrug. When they’d uprooted us to Germany, I’d been pissed. I hadn’t wanted to leave Frankie or Coop to go to the other side of the world. It had sucked. Worst, I hadn’t wanted to write to them. And say what? Having a shitty time, wish I was there?
I’d had the emotional depth of a teaspoon, and I didn’t have the words to express why I was mad that I was there and they weren’t. Mad that I’d left her behind and Coop got to be where I wasn’t. That day when I saw them again after we got back here…it had lifted everything off me. The crap with Dad, the worry about Mom and the girls.
I was where I belonged.
They slotted me back in like I’d never left. Then I’d met Bubba, and he was a part of us, too. I shook my head. “Yeah, she was. I’m not trying to hurt you,” I promised. “I get that you want us all home. I’m sure the girls will be less than thrilled that I’m gone—then again, they might enjoy not having me there to give them crap.”
“Don’t start,” Mom said before she squeezed my hands and releasing them. Standing, she moved to the cupboard and got out a wine glass. “I could wish you weren’t going,” she told me. “I hate the idea of you being far away on both your birthday and Christmas.” Maybe especially Christmas, but she didn’t have to say that. I got it.
Still, the way she was talking sounded like she had reconciled herself to the idea. I crossed my mental fingers. “If it helps, I’ll miss you, too.”
She paused as she pulled the corkscrew out of the drawer and gave me a droll look. “No you won’t. You’ll probably call us on Christmas Day, talk for fifteen minutes, and then hang up. I’ll be stunned if you remembered me on your birthday. After all, I only went through eleven hours of labor.”
I bit back a smile. “I’ll always remember you, Mom.”
“Hmm-hmm.” The snort of disbelief only made me smile wider. She got the wine bottle opened and poured herself a glass. Not looking at me, she said, “Frankie told me you take very good care of her, and that she is trying to do the same for you.”
“She does,” I promised. “Mom, she…she just does.”
“I’m glad.” Wine glass in hand, she turned to face me. “Understand that before you’re twenty-five, I’m not ready to be a grandmother.”
I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut. Wincing, I raked a hand through my hair and then stared at her. “Okay, Granny, I wish you’d told me that earlier.”
That earned me a dark look, and I laughed.
“Joke.” I was quick to raise my hands in surrender. “Trust me. Not ready to be a dad either, and I know Frankie’s not interested in being a mom. In fact, other than making sure we have birth control covered, that’s really the farthest thing from our minds.”
She let out a sigh and then gave me a little nod.
“Mom…”
“It’s fine, Jake,” she told me before I could continue. “I get it. I always knew you were going to be the first one out the door. That you were going to do fine building a life away from us. I just…didn’t think it would happen so soon.”
“Want to do a family Christmas before I go? Just one for us?” It was an olive branch, and the look she gave me said as much.
“One present each for you and the girls,” she told me, meeting my concession with one of her own.
“And one for you,” I argued.
She snorted. “Fine. Frankie is welcome, and if she comes, we’ll add one in for her. All other presents, including your birthday present, you can get when you get home.”
I grinned slowly. “Sounds reasonable.”
“Hmmph,” she grumbled and took another sip of her wine.
“Thanks, Mom,” I told her as I stood.
“I haven’t said yes,” she warned me.
“But you’re not telling me no.” That mattered.
“No, baby, I’m not telling you ‘no.’ I get what it is to be young and crazy about someone. You’ve loved that