“Thank you, again,” Lauren said as they pulled in behind Arlen’s pickup truck, which was one of several vehicles of varying sizes and uses parked in the larger paved lot. “For being willing to be honest with me.”
He shut off the engine. “My pleasure.” And despite all the turmoil roiling around, both inside her head…and very likely inside that ranch house, he realized that he absolutely meant it. Which was kind of shocking when he thought about it like that. But at the moment, he was far more concerned with being there for her in whatever capacity she might need him this evening, than whatever his personal discomfort might have been with the proceedings. “Come on. Might as well jump in.”
“Might as well,” she said, sounding very unenthusiastic.
He came around and opened her door and helped her hop down. He kept his hands on her waist. “Should we have a signal?”
“You mean a ‘get me out of Dodge’ kind of thing?”
He smiled. “Something like that.”
“I’ll let you know if I need rescuing.”
“Somehow I can’t see you ever
needing
rescuing—”
She laughed. “Says the man who’s done more of it with me than anyone in recent memory.”
“Well, you might not need it, but if for any reason you want it—”
“Just…be there for me. Steer me if I inadvertently go off in a direction that’s not going to help my cause.”
“Help you read the room? The once-executive assistant to a state senator needs my help with reading a room?”
She smiled back at him but he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. “It’s a pretty intimate room. And I’m obviously a little too close to what’s going on to perhaps see things as clearly as I should. So, it’ll be nice to know I have an outside observer keeping my back.”
“I don’t know how outside I am…” He leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. “But I’ll do my best to get us both out of there in one piece.”
“Ulterior motives again?”
He slid his hand into hers. “Maybe.”
She held on, then squeezed. “Probably.”
They headed around to the gate that led to the back of the property, where the rich scent of smoke barbecue filled the evening air. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No.” She looked up at him as he held the gate and smiled. “It’s probably going to be my salvation.”
He stepped in behind her, and felt her tense as her mother and Arlen approached. “I’m good with that,” he murmured in her ear.
“Good,” she whispered. “Here we go.”
Yes
, he thought, feeling his heart flutter again, as he watched her step forward to greet the pair.
Here I go, indeed
.
“L
auren, sweetheart, I’m so glad you made it.” Lauren’s mother enveloped her in a quick, tight hug. “And I see you brought Jake with you; that’s wonderful.” She smoothly turned Lauren with her and extended her hand to Jake. “I’m so glad you could join us.”
“The pleasure is mine,” he said, taking her slender hand and briefly covering it with his own instead of shaking it.
Her mother beamed at Lauren. “And such nice manners, too.”
Lauren couldn’t help but smile. Her mother was as short as her daughter, but where Lauren had inherited her looks from her father’s side of the family, where the women had dark hair and lush figures, her mother was diminutive in every way. And though there wasn’t a fragile bone in her body, nor in any essence of the way she carried herself, men generally fell all over themselves in a rush to see to her every need. Her mother took that with good grace as well. Despite the fact that she needed rescuing even less often than her daughter did.
Arlen stepped up then. “Glad you both could make it out this way. Barbecue is coming along nicely. Know anything about using cured wood to smoke meat?” he asked, directing the question to Jake.
“A little.”
Arlen chuckled. “More than I know, then. Come on over here and look at this new smoker. I think I’ve got it going along okay, but it never hurts to get a second opinion.”
Jake glanced at Lauren, who gave him a quick, almost imperceptible nod, then he smiled at the mayor. “I’m not sure what my opinion is worth, but I’m happy to oblige.”
The two men turned toward the back of the house. “Well, gives me someone else to share the blame if we burn anything. Come on back.”
Lauren watched them depart, thinking the easy conviviality would have gone a lot further toward soothing her concerns if Arlen’s pasted politician smile and canned laugh hadn’t been in full force. But he was making an effort, Lauren told herself, and she could, too. So she turned back to her mother with a sincere smile. “Thanks for inviting us both.”
Her mother was studying her, but her smile was soft. “I’m glad you brought him.” She tilted her head slightly. “Is he just a very nice-looking barrier, or of any real interest?”
“I just met him, Mom.”
“Well, now, I know a little bit about short courtships.” Her mother’s smile deepened slightly, but Lauren noticed it didn’t entirely make it up to her eyes. So there was still some concern on her mother’s side, too.
She’d always been able to read her daughter, so Lauren shouldn’t have been surprised, but she hoped that this evening could just be about relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Lauren cautioned, keeping it light. They were finding their way back to how it used to be, and she wanted that trend to continue. Although, looking around at her mother’s new life, the one she shared with Arlen, she wondered if things would ever really be the same.
“Would you like the tour of the place?”
“I’d love one.” She followed her mother toward the side door, through a small, lovingly attended garden. “This is beautiful. Truly.”
“Thank you.” Her mother beamed. “The beginnings were already here. Arlen had a professional design the basics that surround the house when he had it built several years ago, but I sort of claimed this little spot as my own. Gets a little of the morning sun and the evening sunset. I like it out here.”
“It’s lovely. Peaceful.” She paused, then said, “I didn’t know you—”
“Gardened?” her mother finished with a laugh. “I didn’t. Never had the time. Despite being on the boards of two garden clubs in two different states back when I was married to your father. We all had gardeners then and some of us might have puttered in a little greenhouse or potting shed, but it was all rather silly, really, when you think of it. I didn’t even have a hand in the cut flower arrangements in the house.”
“So, what made you take it up, now?”
Charlene opened the door to the side entrance. “I might not have made the time before, but I did always have the interest. And now…I can finally indulge myself. There are a lot of things I’d have liked to indulge in, but always thought I never had the time for. I think back, now, about the choices I made and how I invested my time—”
“Do you have regrets? I always thought you thrived on the organizations and activities you devoted yourself to.”
“I did, I did. And I had myself convinced that that was all the fulfillment I needed. When your father and I were married, that was probably more true than it was after he passed away. He always kept me afloat, I think.”
Lauren laughed a little. “I think he’d swear it was the other way around if you asked him.”
Her mother’s smile was warm and filled with good memories. “We propped each other up. We also pushed and supported each other. It was the best kind of teamwork, I suppose. I did thrive. And…when he was gone, I suppose I just kept on doing what I knew how to do. It might not have been as fulfilling as it once was, but there was solace and comfort in the familiar.” She shrugged. “And I guess I enjoyed being needed.”
“I always needed you,” Lauren said, squeezing her mother around the shoulders. “But I know what you meant. I’m sorry I wasn’t more aware of how lonely you must have been. You always seemed so busy, so…well, if not happy, at least not at first, at least at peace. You seemed…better when you were involved.”
“Oh, I made sure I was always that.” She squeezed Lauren’s shoulder back and showed her the rest of the garden. “I guess it wasn’t until I moved to Florida that I had to ask myself what I really wanted, what would really make me happy.”
Lauren debated biting her tongue, she really didn’t want to bring it up, but the opening was there, and given her mother was clearly aware of her continued misgivings, maybe it was best if she simply asked the questions that were nagging her. “I meant what I said, earlier today. I do love that you found happiness here, Mom,” she said. “And I know it’s still early for you and Arlen, but…does he make you feel like Dad did?” She raised a hand before her mother could respond. “I don’t mean that the way it sounded. I know Dad was Dad and you’re not looking for a replacement. What I meant was, you talked about teamwork, and feeling supported, and knowing you were the one he’d come to for that same support. Do you have that with Arlen? Or do you think you ever will?”
Her mother didn’t answer right away, and Lauren noticed she’d turned her attention—and her eyes—away from her daughter, staring instead at the array of brightly colored flowers blooming by the garden swing. “I don’t know that I need that same kind of teamwork,” she said. “My life is different now; the demands are different.” She turned to her daughter. “I’m focusing more on myself. I think I’ve earned that.”
“You have. We should all take care of ourselves like that—”
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “Says the pot.”
Lauren smiled, but her gut tightened. Now was not the time to talk to her mom about her recent job shift. Okay, job end. She hadn’t exactly done the shifting part yet. “I’ve been doing a lot more thinking about that lately than ever before. Actually, it was your move to Florida that made me start to question what I wanted for my big picture.” Lauren moved toward the side door and her mother’s innate hospitality had her moving to intercept and open the door to usher her daughter inside.
She stepped inside and was immediately enveloped in a very warm, homey kitchen room that was decorated in a country prairie style that was about as far away from her mother’s elegant southern roots as Lauren could have imagined. But it was beautifully done and she felt immediately at ease, surrounded by the gleam of walnut, offset with the red, yellow, black, and white accents in the window treatments and tiling. “Wow, this is really eye catching.” She caught her mother beaming. “You did this?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” she said, taking Lauren’s hand. “I have many hidden talents.”
Lauren squeezed her mother’s hand, then let go so she could stroll around the room, looking at the antique kitchen implements that decorated the opposing wall, interspersed with black and white photos of Cedar Springs, all taken back in the fifties or earlier. “This is really wonderful. Hard to believe you’ve only been here six months.”
“Well, when I got here, Arlen had more or less had the place decorated in early hunting lodge.”
Lauren laughed then tried to cover it with a polite cough. “That’s…so not you.”
Her mother smiled, and it was great to see that mischievous, assertive light come back into her eyes. “You’re right about that. I’ve made a lot of adjustments to the more rugged, rural life out here in the mountains, but I drew the line at looking at eyes that could look back at me while I was eating. Other than Arlen’s, of course.”
Lauren kept her smile on her face, but turned her attention back to the décor. “Of course.”
“Sweetheart—”
“Why don’t you show me the rest of the place? How many rooms did you make over?”
“Just a couple of them,” her mother said, leading Lauren into the large dining room. “So far,” she said, a twinkling smile on her face as she looked over her shoulder.
Where the kitchen had been all warm and homey, the dining room was far more formal, with a glossy maple table and high back chairs to seat ten, and a full china service displayed in a matching glass case on the far wall. “Now, this looks more like you,” she said.
“It’s all like me. Now, anyway. To be honest, this turned out to be my least favorite room. I thought it would be comforting, a reminder of—”
“This isn’t our old—”
“No, dear, all that is still in storage from my move to Florida.”
“What did you do with your place down there? I never asked.”
“I still have it. In my own name.” She smiled, but there was a bit of smug in it. “I’m not quite the foolish old woman you think I’ve become.”
“Mom, I never said—”
“You didn’t have to.”
Lauren sighed a little. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to insult you. I was worried.”
“You still are. Despite seeing how happy I am.”
“Actually, I am surprised at how well you’ve made a home for yourself out here. I’d…well, I’d have honestly never placed you in this kind of setting, but you’re—you’re glowing.”
Her mother beamed, and this time the smile easily reached her twinkling eyes. “You have a bit of that glow about you, too. Fortunately, we can blame it on the gorgeous mountain air.”
Lauren couldn’t duck fast enough to keep her mother from seeing the roses that bloomed lightly in her cheeks. “Yes, well…the mountain air is certainly…stimulating.” She glanced over at her mother in time to see her do the ducking and turning. Hmm. She turned to face her mother. “I do know you’re happy here—”
“I am, Lauren. I think…I don’t know. I feel more truly retired now. Life is a pleasure. I do what I want, explore new avenues about myself that, frankly, I never would have in Florida.”
“You seemed happy there, too—”
“Not like here.”
“No,” Lauren said, admitting what was easily observed. “Not like this.”
“I think I still didn’t know how else to live, to organize my time, my days, other than how I’d always done it. Florida was different, a slightly slower pace, warmer, certainly, and a lot less stressful than the life I led, both with your grandfather and your father and beyond. I was doing what I wanted, but it was more or less the things I’d always done, just in a different climate, with different motivations.” She turned and looked out the big picture window that filled most of the back wall of the room. “Here…here nothing is the same. The old rules, my old life, none of it applies. I had to find out who I really was.” She turned to Lauren. “What I really wanted. And what I want is to be here.”
Lauren nodded. She was absolutely certain her mother meant every word. What bothered her was that she’d noted once again that, at no time when discussing what made her happy, had her mother included her husband. She talked in glowing terms about the town, the mountains, her home, her new hobbies, interests. Other than in passing, she rarely seemed to mention Arlen at all.
And Lauren didn’t think it was because her mother was trying to spare her admittedly touchy sensibilities by avoiding him as a topic. It went beyond that. A person who was newly married, newly in love, newly…anything with someone couldn’t avoid talking about him if they tried. She’d certainly witnessed it time and time again with her friends…and was experiencing a bit of tongue-biting herself at the moment, thinking about Jake out there with Arlen and not being able to pour out the myriad confusing and conflicting feelings she was having over him to the one person she’d always been able to talk to.
Which made her wonder if her mother was also biting her tongue about her own possible conflicted emotions. She’d enjoyed a closer than usual relationship with her mother, both before and, especially, after her father died. Growing up, her mother had been parent first, friend second. But, as adults, they’d become a pretty good team, too, continuing the open dialogue her parents had always encouraged, and deepening it into something mature and special. They’d been able to talk about anything, despite not always seeing eye-to-eye.
Which made what was happening now an even more fragile time. She needed her mother now more than ever, to talk about the major change she’d made in her life, the man who’d recently entered it…so many things. And wondered if her mother was feeling the same thing about her major changes…and the man she’d brought into her own life. She wondered if by being so openly stunned and disconcerted by her mother’s abrupt life change, if she’d made her mother feel now, as time had moved on, as if she could hardly bring up any discontent she might be feeling, if only to avoid the “I told you so” conversation that would likely follow.
Lauren liked to think she was more sensitive than that, but here they’d found themselves, anyway, her hiding things from her mother, and her mother possibly doing the same.
Well, they both clearly didn’t want it to be that way, and that was a start. But one of them had to start the conversational ball rolling, so, taking a steadying breath, she turned around with the intention of doing that very thing. And she’d start by revealing her own secrets. Then perhaps her mother would feel comfortable enough to reveal her own. “Mom—I need to tell—”