Beyond that, I hadn’t really tried to get to know her. I probably should have—she was just a kid after all—but she wasn’t a kid who had anything to do with me…except the fact my mom was now the next best thing to being her mom, and I still had no desire to share my parent.
So, I pretended I didn’t have to. More and more, I met Mom away from the house, places I didn’t have to censor myself around her new family and could chat freely about the stuff I wanted to share with my mom or ask her opinion on.
It sounded reasonable in my head, but a thin thread of guilt wrapped itself around my usual thoughts as I looked at Harley’s bright green eyes and she waved me into the house. She hadn’t asked for an old, grumpy stepbrother, and her entire life had changed, too. Maybe she didn’t want to be sleeping in my old room.
“Your mom’s in the kitchen.” She closed the door behind me as I stepped into the small entryway that smelled of home, and I smiled.
Of course she was. The smell of meatballs drifted through the entire house, and if aroma was any indication of the cook’s mood, it smelled like Mom was happy.
“Thanks.” I touched Harley’s shoulder fleetingly as I moved by her and crossed the familiar polished oak floor to the kitchen.
Mom had the radio turned way up in the kitchen and her singing was reassuringly off-key. Even now, even in our house with new people, she hadn’t changed that much, and I could see how happy she was. I could never spoil that.
I sneaked up behind her and wrapped her into a hug. She squealed a little, and I chuckled as I spun her in my arms and danced her towards the refrigerator. When the song finished, she laughed, her breathing a little faster, and I smiled as I looked down at her.
She cupped my cheek in her small hand. “You’re going to make someone a good husband someday, Nicky.”
I smiled and opened my mouth, ready to tease her, but she continued.
“You’re such a wonderful son, and I love you so much. I hope you find a guy who deserves you soon.”
I blinked back the sudden threat of tears, and my smile tightened as I tried to keep it in place. “Thanks, Mom.” I had to look away and as I did, I caught sight of Roy standing in the doorway, a soft smile on his lips and affection in his eyes as he watched my mom.
He looked as I remembered when I saw him the last time, although I couldn’t remember when that was. It might have been the argument over the lightbulbs, or possibly the one about the electrical outlets or the time he fired the gardeners. I didn’t remember the order we’d argued about those things.
But maybe it was time we stopped arguing. And—I could admit it—it was mostly my fault we argued. But it was hard to watch another guy come into the house I’d looked after and begin to take care of the mother I’d always taken care of.
Roy nodded at me, a small smile tugging at his lips, before turning to walk into the living room, and a new respect for him bloomed that he valued my relationship with my mother enough to let us have a moment with each other uninterrupted. It also said something about how secure he felt that he didn’t need to pull rank with me over Mom or the house.
I pulled Mom close for a moment, feeling as if this dinner marked some sort of milestone in my life. A turning point of sorts. And I smiled against her soft hair. It was definitely time for change.
“Oh!” Mom pushed me gently away. “You’ll make dinner late if we just stand here in the kitchen and sway to the music. Or I’ll burn the meatballs, and Roy would be so disappointed if he had to order pizza.”
I slid open a drawer and pulled out a chef’s apron before tying it around my waist. “What can I do to help?”
“Uh…” She lifted a pan lid. “Stir the pasta noodles, please.” She bent down and opened the oven before waving away the billowing steam before putting on a mitt and reaching inside. The air thickened with the scent of herbs and marinara sauce, and I dipped a slotted spoon into the bubbling pot on the burner.