Mother, Please! - By Brenda Novak & Jill Shalvis & Alison Kent Page 0,82
fantasy becoming a very real reality before she was ready.
But while he was mentally clearing the table, making room to climb on top, Avery was busy moving on. Shrugging, she turned her attention back to the plate of casserole balanced on her knees. “I do worry about my mother, though. I suppose I shouldn’t. She told me that I shouldn’t. But it’s hard to see her alone after all the years she had with Daddy.”
“I’m pretty sure your mom’s doing okay,” he said, reaching again for his wine.
“I know she’s doing okay. I just wonder at times if she’d be doing better if Daddy were still around.” Avery returned the half-empty plate to the table, then leaned a shoulder against the back of her chair and sipped at her wine. “School’s out in another couple of weeks. She won’t have the daily routine of kids and classes to keep her busy during the summer.”
“Trust me. Those few weeks off are only long enough to get done what we don’t have time to do the rest of the year,” he said, looking down into his wineglass and avoiding her gaze.
“I know,” she said, her voice growing pensive. “But Mom’s always taught summer school in the past. This year she waited until the last possible minute to make her decision, and now she has this block of free time looming ahead. That’s what concerns me more than anything.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Avery, I don’t mean to be insensitive here, but your mother is an adult. If she’s decided not to teach summer school, I’m sure she has a good reason.”
“I don’t know—”
“Avery, listen.” He hated cutting her off, but this had been bugging him for a while now, this hold Avery seemed to have on her mother’s apron strings. “Letting her do her thing while you do yours would do both of you a lot of good.”
“Is there an echo in here or are you channeling my mother?”
He couldn’t help it when one corner of his mouth twisted into a warped smile. “Has she been sneaking out behind your back again?”
“As a matter of fact…” She swirled the wine in her glass, staring into her drink for a moment before looking up and meeting his eyes squarely. “As a matter of fact, yes. Though that’s none of your business.”
“True.” He nodded. “The catch-twenty-two of being a casual observer who lives in proximity to the both of you.”
“And what exactly have you observed since you’ve been here, Mr. Marks?” she asked with a teasing sarcasm.
It was her eyes, however, that told him she wasn’t teasing at all. He took a deep breath and set his wineglass back on the table, twirling it by the stem. “That you work too much. That you rarely go out and when you do it’s usually with Suzannah.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It could be.” He glanced in her direction then. “If you’re using your mother as an excuse. Or as a crutch.”
“That’s not it at all,” she said too hurriedly. “It’s just that being here, should she need anything, is important to me.”
He wanted to press harder, to ask whether it was mother or daughter most likely to need the other. But he didn’t. Her pensive expression told him he’d made his point. “Well, like I said, she’ll have her calendar filled before you turn around.”
“I supposed you’re right,” Avery said with a sigh as a smile settled over her face. “Especially now that she’s catching up with old friends. The timing of this Leslie coming back into Mom’s life couldn’t be more perfect.”
Or more obviously the reason Suzannah wasn’t teaching summer school this year. He cleared his throat. “So you haven’t met Leslie yet, right?”
Avery shook her head and glanced at him quizzically. “Mom only mentioned her to me on Saturday morning. Why do you ask?”
Her. David groaned. This secret wasn’t his to tell. It was Suzannah’s. But he really hated for Avery to spend the next five days expecting her mother to show up for dinner this weekend with an old female friend in tow.
He took a long swallow of wine then said, “Look, Avery. Here’s the thing. You need to know that Leslie is a him, not a her.”
Avery blinked once, twice and then her eyes widened. He reached for the glass of wine she held in shaking hands, pried it free and returned it to the table. “A man? Leslie is a man? My mother is seeing a man?”