Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,61
approval.
“I heard a rumor they’re rebooting your show. Can you tell me anything about that? In confidence of course.”
Mom smiles slowly. “Of course I couldn’t tell you anything about that. But…” She goes to the desk and produces a sheaf of papers. “There might be a script.”
I stare in astonishment. “You smuggled a script into rehab?”
“Literature is good for the soul.”
I excuse myself and head down to the main desk. I find a receptionist at the desk and ask, “How long will my mother be here?”
“She can leave any time.”
The gut-twisting is back. “That’s what I figured. Thank you.”
I head back down the hall.
My mother’s voice drifts out the doorway when I approach. “Salvatore! You can’t.”
I frown, trying to place it, before realizing it’s her old show.
“But I already have, Anita. It’s done.”
My head drops back at Daisy’s artificially lowered voice. I laugh as I listen to them. Eventually, I hear the rustling of pages.
“That was fun, thank you,” Mom say warmly. “I haven’t had someone to read with in ages.”
“My pleasure.” Daisy’s voice is back to normal, and she really does sound as if she enjoyed it.
I’m about to walk in when Mom’s next question stops me.
“Have you shown my son the dress you’re wearing?”
“Not yet. But I can show you.”
I strain to hear, but there’s only the sound of shifting.
“Oh. It’s beautiful. You know, I had a few designers send things over to my apartment. But I haven’t tried them on yet.”
Mom likes to be here, being waited on, but it’s good to hear my mom so engaged and genuinely happy. She is, right now, and I wonder when the last time was I heard her sound so light. Or maybe it’s a projection of how I’m feeling.
“I’m sure we could have them bring the dresses here. Though there’s not much room to try things on.”
When I go back in, Daisy smiles and my mom beams. “We were just rehearsing.”
“I see. D, could you give us a second?”
“Of course. It was so nice to see you, Ramona. Call me if you need someone to read a script with. What I lack in acting talent I make up for with discretion.”
We wait for Daisy to go before my mom turns back to me.
I sit beside her. “The staff said they don’t have any concerns about your well-being. You could move back home.”
“I can have my things ready tomorrow.”
I blink at her in surprise.
“As Daisy said, I need to be finalizing my dress choice for this event. Though her dress is quite special.” She leans in, smiling.
As we work to make arrangements to get Mom back home, my throat tightens.
“When was the last time you brought a woman to meet me?” she asks.
“You already know Daisy.”
“I’d like to know her better. She’s good for you, Ben. She softens your edges.”
When I say goodbye to my mother and head back out to D in the hall, I can’t kick the thought that Daisy doesn’t only soften my edges, she makes me question whether I needed them to begin with.
“That went well,” Daisy says, seemingly oblivious, as I hold the door for her. “I don’t think she suspected.”
“No.”
I follow her out into the twilight and unlock my car. I shift into the driver’s seat and stare out the windshield. My hand reaches across the console and finds Daisy’s fingers without me looking.
“You don’t have to fix her, Ben. Just be with her.”
When I look over, Daisy’s face is filled with empathy. Her thumb strokes the back of my hand, taking my frustration down a notch with every brush of her skin on mine.
“It’s that simple,” I say with a dry laugh.
“When was the last time you went to visit her when she wasn’t in rehab? Or when you and Tris involved her in your lives?”
I cut her a look. “All the time.”
“Give me one.”
I can’t come up with an example, which makes me more frustrated. “You’re saying this is my fault.”
Her brows pull together. “I’m saying she loves you. The only thing she wants is for you to be happy.”
I pull my hand away to grip the steering wheel.
I reverse out of the spot and start the drive back to the city. She’s silent the whole way.
I want to tell her it’s one thing for us to vent our bullshit, but I don’t need her opinions on my mom. I want to unload thirty years of shit on her, to tell her I have to be in control because if I’m not,