I’m not even completely out of the car before her arms squeeze tight around me. As lame as it is, her arms still bring a sense of safety to me. “I’ve missed you,” she utters in my ear.
“I’ve missed you, too.” It’s been over a year since she wore the genuine smile that lights up her face and witnessing her happy makes me content.
“Come on, you need food. Are you eating up there?” She pinches my stomach and I sidestep her.
“I feed myself plenty, believe me.” She studies me for a second and conflict pierces in her matching blue eyes.
“Staying away from temptations?”
I shake my head, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and swaying her thin body into me. “You can’t wait until we get into the restaurant first? Maybe some food in my stomach?” Her own arms tighten around me, bringing guilt because she’s as worried as I was last year. My drinking habit spiraled out of control during the Krypto tour, and I almost got wheeled out on a gurney. Hell, I was one bottle away from a body bag. “Sorry, just a little frustrated lately.” If I was honest with my mom, I’d tell her about Paige and how I’m twisted in knots, how I don’t know which way is up. How much I want to trust Paige, but my fears strangle me.
“Let’s get you a burger and then maybe you’ll trust your mom a little and let her in.” I nod, gripping her shoulder tighter. Witnessing her transformation in the past year implies to me, it’s possible. Maybe one day I’ll reach half of where she’s soared.
When we step inside Market Place, the smell of cinnamon rolls constricts in my throat. Carly never left here without one in her stomach. I joked with her that one day she’d be fat from how many she ate. Grief grips my stomach, recalling back her classic phrase.
“One day, Robbie, you’ll miss it.” I gripped her tighter, telling her she’s not going anywhere. I can picture her hazel eyes staring up at mine pouring with love. “No, but if something ever happens to me, you’ll miss my love for cinnamon rolls. You’ll miss my legs wrapped around you on your bike. You’ll miss me sneaking sips of your pop.”
My fists clench from the memories of that conversation and my eyes unconsciously divert to the booth—our booth. Carly had no idea how right she was. Her comments were in good nature, playful banter between a couple that loved one another. Never would I have considered months after that, how right she would be.
My mom tucks her hand in mine removing me from the haunting nightmare. She offers me a reassuring smile, and then her shoulders slump. “I’m sorry, Robbie, I should have remembered.” It’s not her fault; there aren’t many places in our small town where memories of Carly don’t drown me.
I force back the pressure building behind my eyes. Shaking my head, I peer down to the woman who knows exactly what it’s like to be caught between sorrow and happiness. “Nah, this place is great.” I muster up a fake smile, and place my hand on the small of her back to follow the hostess to our table.
Thankfully, she leads us in the far back by the bathrooms, and as much as I want to escape through the door and come to grips with the good memories built here that turned sour, I don’t. Instead, a mask of indifference covers my face as I pull out my mom’s chair. She sits down and stares up at me with graciousness. “Thank you, Robbie.” Her appreciation is the only reason I’m back in this crap-filled town.
I sit across from her and notice gray hair around the temples. Although I hate it’s a sign of her getting older, I like her when she’s not so obsessed about her physical appearance. Back when I was in high school, I hated that my friends would love to check my mom out, or hearing the sly comments about her being a MILF.
After a waitress, that thank God doesn’t know us, comes over and writes down our orders, my mom places her linked hands on the table signaling it’s time. “So, how have things been?” I get the sympathetic sad eyes, and the turned down lips. It’s the sole reason I’ve never told anyone in Western about the accident, Carly, my dad, or any personal shit. Well, I did tell Brady and Sadie a small portion of it when I returned from Krypto. I guarantee it’s the sole reason they allowed me to move back in.
“They’ve been good, Mom. I’m working.” I relax back in my chair, my one arm extended across the table, nervously fiddling with the fork.
“Have you given more consideration to school?” I’ve already prepared my answer for this question on the drive down. She’s been hounding me about it for six months. “I talked to Dad—”
“You talked to Dad?” I bolt up straight in my seat. “Why the hell were you talking to him?” My voice raises and a few heads glance over. Let them, I can give a shit.
“Calm down, Robbie.” Why the hell should I? He destroyed her, destroyed our family more than I already did.
“No! Tell me why on Earth you’d talk to that piece of shit?” I drop the fork and grab the knife, playing with it in my hands.
“It was about you. He wants to reconnect.” She sits back in her seat and knots the napkin in her hands.
“Well, that’s not going to happen, so you can forget it.” I stare down at the table as my blood boils. I wish she wouldn’t bring him up here, not now. I’m barely holding my shit together without thinking of him.
“He wants to pay for your schooling. He—we both want you to finish, Robbie.” A tear trickles down her cheek and it rips my chest open. My dad caused enough tears, I’m not about to. How do I not do something she’s asked, she practically saved me—twice.
“I don’t know if I want to go back. If I did, I have no clue if I’d even go back into business.” She fixes her eyes on me. “What?”
“Your dad wants you to run the company.” The napkin is practically spun into a ball now.
My family owns a packaging company in Mill River. The same town where people give me sideway glances, or whisper when I pass by. The same town I swore I’d never return to as a permanent residence. That will never change, no matter what my dad wants.
“Not going to happen.” My voice is flat and final. She realizes there’s no reason to continue the discussion and she won’t chance me running out of here.
“Just think about it. The offer is on the table, okay?” She extends her arm across the table and grips my hand in hers. Squeezing tightly to get my attention, I look up and she’s softly smiling. “Okay?”
I nod, “okay.” The waitress comes over and positions our sandwiches in front of us. I ordered the Rueben with extra sauce and a side of fries.
“Why are you frustrated lately? Work?” She mumbles through a bite of her tuna melt.
I shake my head. “Not really. Just not playing as much as I would like. The band is struggling to find time to practice and play shows.” I’m the most honest with my mom, but even that is limited.
“Should you find another band?” Here’s the bit of information I’ve left out from my mom. She doesn’t know how I ditched the guys to tour with Krypto. And although she knows Jessa from me bringing her home for Thanksgiving two years ago, she has no idea what I did to her.
“No. I just need to find some answers soon on what I’m going to do with my future.” She places her food down and then reaches for my hand again.
Tapping her hand on mine, she smiles. “I like that word coming out of your mouth. Future.” There was more than a few times I didn’t want one, but I do now. Just not sure what it will entail.
“Enough of the sappy crap, okay?” I slide my hand out from hers and pick up my sandwich. “Tell me something good.” It’s a game we started after I returned from tour to allow ourselves to see the good in life, not only the bad.
She proudly sits up in her chair, wiping her hands on the napkin. “Well, I started working out again. I’ve been going to the gym three days a week.”
“That’s great. Do you think you’ll start teaching again?” My mom used to be an aerobics instructor before she caught my dad sleeping with her partner. She came in early because new equipment was being delivered and found my dad’s hands all up on her best friend’s tits. Classic story. How cliché could he get? She quit after that, fell into a depression and I wondered if she’d ever return to her passion.