***
“Jenny Lynn, I swear to God if you don’t stop doting...” Helen Riley yanked her juice container off the tray and held it out of Jenny’s reach, an expression of warning on her pale face.
“I’m not doting—I’m helping.” Jenny tapped the straw open on her mother’s table, a little two-seated number that came standard in all of the assisted living apartments, and handed it across the weathered wood. “We’ve been doing this long enough that you should know the difference by now.”
Helen stabbed the straw through the foil on top of the apple juice, her lip turned up like Elvis. “I had a heart attack—I didn’t die.”
“You had a heart attack and a stroke. And you coded on the operating table.”
Her mother waved a dismissive hand, the fine bones in her fingers more delicate than ever. Since the incident two months ago, her mother’s body had become so frail and thin, so old for her sixty-one years. But, as worrisome as that was, Helen’s perpetual pain in the ass demeanor kept Jenny’s concern in check. If Mom could gripe and backtalk, she’d be just fine.
“I’m telling you—my inner cougar just wanted mouth to mouth from that hot cardiologist.” Eyebrows waggling, Helen sucked down part of her afternoon snack while Jenny rolled her eyes and took the seat across the table.
“So physical therapy is going better this week?” She scanned the schedule that the in-home worker had left out, easily accessible to Helen, who still had trouble with coordination. Thankfully, she could amble around without the support of a walker 24/7, but she still had good days and bad.
“Yes, you worry-wart. Joanne thinks I finally rounded that last corner. Next stop, home.” Helen smiled a soft, uneasy grin that matched the uncertain weariness in her dark eyes. There had been so many setbacks, so much time lost from falls, that it was hard to believe she might actually live on her own again in the not-so-distant future. Three months had somehow felt like an eternity.
“I’ll have to get your bedroom set up downstairs, and shift some furniture around to make maneuvering easier, just in case you do need to use your walker again.” She’d see if Reed... Ugh. She’d see if Josh or Tony could help.
“That’d be great, sweetie. Thank you.” Helen exchanged the empty juice container for a carrot stick, sighing as she nibbled on it. She’d come a long way since October, but she still tired easily. Enough that Jenny wondered whether or not her mother would ever really be the same again. Once a vibrant, energetic woman, it was all she could do to make it through the day without a morning and an afternoon nap.
“Oh, crap.” Jenny shot to her feet as her phone chimed in her purse. “I almost forgot about my emergency client this afternoon.”
“I thought you took the day off.” Helen frowned, her dry lips pulling down so sadly that Jenny had to look away. Leaving her mother at the facility after visits never got easier. Each time, the guilt layered on a little more. She looked forward to Mom returning home as much as she did.
“I did, but then Ellie called, needing a last minute wax. Hot date tonight, I guess.” She pushed aside the I’m-a-bad-daughter feeling and pasted on a smile.
“Ooh,” her mother laughed softly, at least appreciating the gossip. “Lucky girl. Almost as lucky as you snagging the hunky building inspector.”
Shit. She’d put off the news about Reed because there had been more important things to discuss. Christmas, Ally’s wedding, therapy... “Reed and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.” Not that “seeing each other” really equated to what they’d been doing, but her mother didn’t need to know that.
Helen lowered the carrot from her mouth, a deep crease down the middle of her forehead, drawing her dark eyebrows together. A lock of salt-n-pepper hair drooped over her forehead. “Why the heck not?”
Because I gave him the milk for free. “We just decided to go our separate ways. No harm, no foul.”
“You really liked him. I thought he liked you, too.”
How to tell her only parent, the one who’d worked her ass off to raise her right, that she’d acted so foolishly? Not just once either, but time and time again, making herself available to Reed’s whims—other men, too—even though it had meant sacrificing her own pride on more than one of those occasions?
“Sweetie?” Helen prompted and Jenny blew out a breath, hiking her purse onto her shoulder. The first step to making a change is admitting there’s a problem, right?
“I did like him, but I went about showing him the wrong way. I...” Just say it. Rip off the Band-Aid. “I thought sleeping with him would mean something more than it did. It didn’t. At least not like I was expecting.”
“Oh, Jenny....” Her mother shook her head, undeserved compassion glistening in her eyes. “I had no idea.”
“Of course, you didn’t. I didn’t want you to. I’m twenty-eight years old. Far too old to think sex might actually keep a guy interested, but that’s the game I played.”
Standing on shaky legs, Helen came to stand before her, one soft, chilly hand curling around Jenny’s cheek. “I take the blame for letting you believe that. Lord knows I tried that same approach often enough in my younger years. Heck, how do you think you came about?”
Sadly, she knew that story too well. Her father had been a truck driver who frequented McCauley’s Pub back in her mother’s hay day. Helen had fallen for his rough, nomadic ways and they’d carried on a fling for a year before Helen had gotten pregnant. Six months later, he married his long-time fiancée. Five years after that, he’d died in a multi-vehicle crash on I-80. Never once had he come back to River Bend to meet her.
“No need to think too hard on that, Mom. It’s beside the point anyway, because I’m done with it. Done with Reed and men just like him.” She lifted her chin. “I’m...I’m better than that.” And maybe if she said it enough times, she’d start to believe it.
She’d had a taste of that self-acceptance in Vegas. Then again, she’d also had a handsome man literally holding her hand, so of course she’d felt good about herself. Still, Brody had impacted her in a way she hadn’t expected. While not the ideal, independent, kicking ass and taking names approach she wanted to take, he’d offered comfort and support she’d needed to get off on the right foot.
It was a good thing she’d never gotten his number, otherwise he’d become an all too-easily accessible drug she’d want another hit from, because she thought about him all the time. How was he doing? Was he dealing with his issues, too? Or were they still haunting him in his sleep?
“What are you thinking about, sweetie?” Helen’s fingers trailed over Jenny’s cheekbone, tucking the hair behind her ear.
“That maybe I need a support group. MA—Men Anonymous.”
Helen laughed softly. “Nah, you can’t quit men. You just have to learn the difference between the cubic zirconium in this world and the real diamonds. Your gem is out there, baby girl. You just need to find him.”
Chapter Five
Valentine’s Day weekend...
“Oh, my God. This might be better than McCauley’s.” Jenny fasted her lips around the straw and moaned, the cool, fruity ice of a blended margarita sliding along the back of her tongue. Beneath her, the cushions of Josh and Carissa’s couch embraced her ass better than any barstool ever had. They really needed to do these house parties more often. Especially with Heather mixing drinks.
The redheaded bartender winked. “That’s because Josh bought the good tequila. Mac makes me use the cheap shit.”
“He wanted to make sure you all felt the love, too,” Carissa explained, her gaze on her man, laughing at the dining room table. Across from him, his brother Dan dealt the cards for their first game of poker, while their friend Tony Dunn explained the rules. The newbie to the group, Nick-the-hot-firefighter, as he’d been officially dubbed, took it all in from behind a bottle of fancy imported beer. “Since the only lips I’ll let him kiss are mine, he figured top-shelf booze was an acceptable alternative.”