After We Collided (The After Series) (30 page)

“Thanks.” I look away. “I love you, Mum.” The words taste odd coming out, but her expression makes it worth it.

She gasps. “What did you just say?” Tears immediately pool in her eyes from hearing the words I never say to her. I don’t know what made me say it just now, maybe the way she truly only wants the best for me. Maybe the way she’s here now, and she really has played such a big role in Tessa’s forgiving me. I don’t know, but the look on her face makes me wish I’d have said it sooner. She’s dealt with a lot of shit, and she really has tried her best to be a good mum to me—she should have had the simple pleasure of hearing her only child say that he loves her more than once in the last thirteen years.

I was just so angry—still am—but it’s not her fault. It never has been her fault.

“I love you, Mum,” I repeat, a little embarrassed.

She pulls me into her arms and hugs me tighter, tighter than I usually allow.

“Oh, Hardin, I love you, too. So much, son.”

I
decide to wear my hair straight, to try something different. But when I finish, it looks odd, so I end up curling it as usual. I’m taking too long to get ready, and it’s probably getting close to time to leave. Perhaps I’m taking longer because part of me is stalling, nervous about how today will go.

I hope Hardin is on his best behavior, or at least tries to be.

I go with simple makeup, only wearing a little foundation, black eyeliner, and mascara. I was going to use eye shadow as well, but I’ve had to remove the messy line from my top eyelid three times before finally getting it right.

“You alive in there?” Hardin’s voice calls through the door.

“Yes, I’m almost done,” I reply and brush my teeth once more.

“I’m going to take a quick shower, but then we need to go if you want to be there on time,” Hardin says when I open the door.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get dressed while you shower.”

He disappears into the bathroom, and I head for the closet, grabbing the sleeveless forest-green dress I bought to wear today. The dark-green material is thick, and the neckline is high. The bow covering my waist is much bigger than it looked when I tried it on the other day, but I’ll have a cardigan over it anyway. I retrieve my charm bracelet from the dresser, and my stomach flutters as I read and reread the perfect inscription.

I can’t decide on what shoes to wear; if I wear heels, I’ll probably look too dressy. I go with black flats, and am pulling my
white cardigan over the dress just as Hardin opens the door wearing only a towel tied around his waist.

Oh.
No matter how many times I see him, I still lose my breath at the sight of him. Staring at Hardin’s half-naked body, I do not understand how tattoos were not my thing before.

“Holy shit,” he says as his eyes rake up and down my body.

“What? What?” I look down to see what’s wrong.

“You look . . . incredibly innocent.”

“Wait, is that good or bad? It’s Christmas, I didn’t want to look indecent.” I suddenly feel unsure of what I chose to wear.

“Oh, it’s good. Very good.” His tongue snakes over his bottom lip, and I finally get it, blushing and looking away before we start something that we should not finish. Not right now, at least. “Thank you. What are you wearing?”

“What I always wear.”

I look back at him. “Oh.”

“I’m not dressing up to go to my dad’s house.”

“I know . . . maybe you could wear that shirt your mother got you for Christmas?” I suggest, even though I know he won’t.

He barks out a laugh. “Not happening.” He goes to the closet and pulls his jeans off the hanger, which falls to the ground, not that he notices such things. I decide not to say anything; instead I walk away from the closet as Hardin’s towel falls to the floor.

“I’m going to go out there with your mom,” I squeak out, trying to force myself not to look at his body.

“Suit yourself.” He smirks, and I leave the room.

When I find Trish in the living room, she’s wearing a red dress and black heels, much different from her usual tracksuit.

“You look so beautiful!” I tell her.

“You’re sure? Is it too much, with the makeup and all?” she asks nervously. “It’s not that I care, really—I just don’t want to look bad when I see my ex-husband after all these years.”

“Trust me, bad is the
last
thing you look,” I tell her, which gets her to smile a little.

“You two ready?” Hardin asks when he joins us in the living room. His hair is still wet, but somehow it manages to look perfect. He’s wearing all black, including the black Converses he wore in Seattle that I love.

His mother doesn’t seem to notice the all-black attire, likely because she’s still focusing on her own appearance. As we get into the elevator, Hardin looks at his mother as if for the first time, then asks, “Why are you so dressed up?”

She blushes a little. “It’s a holiday, why wouldn’t I be?”

“It just seems weird—”

I cut him off before he says something to ruin his mother’s day. “She looks lovely, Hardin. I’m just as dressed up as she is.”

During the drive, everyone is quiet, even Trish. I can tell she’s anxious, and who could blame her? I’d be incredibly nervous, too. In fact, for different reasons, the closer we get to Ken’s house, the more I feel it. I really just want a calm holiday.

When we finally arrive and park at the curb, I hear Trish gasp. “This is his
house
?”

“Yep. I told you it was big,” Hardin says and turns off the car.

“I didn’t think you meant
this
big,” she says quietly.

Hardin hops out and opens his mother’s door, since she’s just sitting there in shock. I get out myself, and as we walk up the steps leading to the large house, I see the apprehension on his face. I take his hand in mine to try to calm him, and he looks down at me with a small but noticeable smile. He doesn’t ring the doorbell—he just opens the door and walks inside.

Karen is standing in the living room with a beaming, welcoming smile that’s so infectious it makes me feel a
little
better. Hardin walks through the foyer first with his mom, and I follow behind him, my hand still in his.

“Thank you all for coming,” Karen says, approaching Trish,
since it’s just understood Hardin’s not one for introductions. “Hello, Trish, I’m Karen,” she says and extends her hand. “It’s so nice to get a chance to meet you. I really appreciate you coming.” Karen appears completely calm, but I’ve gotten to know her well enough to know that’s not really the case.

“Hi, Karen, it’s nice to meet you, too,” Trish says and shakes her hand.

Just then Ken enters the room and, doing a double take when he sees us, stops dead in his tracks and stares at his ex-wife. I lean into Hardin and hope that Landon told Ken we were coming.

“Hello, Ken,” Trish says, her voice sounding stronger than it’s been all morning.

“Trish . . . wow . . . hello,” he stammers.

Trish, who I’m guessing is pleased by his reaction, nods her head once and says, “You look . . . different.”

I’ve tried to imagine what Ken looked like back then—eyes likely bloodshot from liquor, forehead sweaty, face pale—but I can’t seem to.

“Yeah . . . so do you,” he says.

The awkward tension is making me dizzy, so I’m beyond relieved when Karen suddenly exclaims, “Landon!” and he joins us. Karen’s clearly relieved to see the apple of her eye right now, and he looks the part, dressed in blue slacks and a white dress shirt with a black tie.

“You look beautiful.” He compliments me and pulls me in for a hug.

Hardin’s grip on my hand tightens, but I manage to pull my hand free and hug Landon back. “You look very nice yourself, Landon,” I say.

Hardin hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me back over to him, closer than before. Landon rolls his eyes at Hardin, then turns to Trish. “Hello, ma’am, I’m Landon, Karen’s son. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Oh, please don’t call me ma’am.” Trish laughs. “But it’s very nice to meet you, too. Tessa has told me a lot about you.”

He smiles. “All good things, I hope.”

“Mostly,” she teases.

Landon’s charm seems to ease some of the tension in the room, and Karen pipes up, “Well, you all are just in time. The goose is ready to be served in just a couple of minutes!”

Ken leads us to the dining room while Karen disappears into the kitchen. I’m not at all surprised to find the table perfectly set with their best china, polished silverware, and elegant wooden napkin rings. Platters of neatly arranged food cover the table. The main goose dish is surrounded by thick slices of oranges. A bundle of red berries rests atop the body. It’s so elegantly arranged, and the smell makes my mouth water. A plate of roasted potatoes is directly in front of me. The scent of garlic and rosemary fills the air, and I admire the rest of the table. A large centerpiece full of flowers and ornaments sits in the middle, and each decoration echoes the same orange-and-berry theme. Karen is always an amazing host.

“Would anyone like a drink? I have some delicious red wine from the cellar,” she says. Her cheeks flush red as she realizes what she just asked. Alcohol is definitely a sensitive subject with this crowd.

Trish smiles. “I would, actually.”

Karen disappears, and we’re so silent that when she pops the cork in the kitchen, it’s a loud sound that feels like it bounces off the walls around us. When she returns with an open bottle, I consider asking for a glass to calm the uneasy feeling in my stomach, but then decide against it. The hostess returned, each of us takes a seat—Ken at the head of the table, Karen, Landon, and Trish on one side of him, Hardin and I on the other. After some “oohs” and “aahs” at the presentation, no one says a word as they fill their plates with food.

After we’ve all had a few bites, Landon makes eye contact with me, and I can tell he’s debating whether or not to speak. I give him a small nod; I don’t want to have to break the silence. I take a bite of goose, and Hardin puts his hand on my thigh.

Landon wipes his mouth with his napkin and turns to Trish. “So what do you think of America so far, Mrs. Daniels? Is this your first time here?”

She nods a couple of times. “Indeed, it is my first time here. I like it. I wouldn’t want to live here, but I do like it. Are you planning on staying in Washington when you finish university?” She looks at Ken as if she was asking him instead of Landon.

“I’m not sure yet; my girlfriend is moving to New York next month, so it will depend on what she wants to do.”

I selfishly hope he doesn’t move out there anytime soon.

“Well, I’ll be glad when Hardin finishes, so he can move back home,” Trish says, and I drop my fork onto my plate.

All eyes focus on me and I smile apologetically before picking the utensil back up.

“You’re moving back to England after you graduate?” Landon asks Hardin.

“Yeah, of course I am,” Hardin answers rudely.

“Oh,” Landon says, looking directly at me. Hardin and I haven’t discussed any plans after college, but him going back to England never once crossed my mind. We will need to discuss this later, not in front of everyone.

“And you . . . how do you like America, Ken? Are
you
planning to live here permanently?” Trish asks him.

“Yes, I love it here. I’ll be staying most definitely,” he answers.

Trish smiles and takes a slow sip of her wine. “You always hated America.”

“Yes . . . I
did
,” he replies and half smiles back at her.

Karen and Hardin both shift uncomfortably in their seats, and I concentrate on chewing the bite of potato in my mouth.

“Does anyone have anything to talk about besides America?” Hardin rolls his eyes. I gently kick him under the table, but he doesn’t acknowledge it.

Karen jumps in quickly, asking me, “How was your trip to Seattle, Tessa?”

I’ve definitely already told her about it, but I know that she’s only trying to make conversation, so I tell everyone about the conference and my job again. That gets us through the meal at least, as everyone keeps asking me questions in a clear effort to stay on this safe, non-ex-wife-and-ex-husband topic.

Once everyone is done with the delicious goose and sides, I help Karen take the dishes to the kitchen. She seems to be distracted, so I don’t probe her for conversation as we clean up the kitchen.

“Would you like another glass of wine, Trish?” Karen asks once we all move to the living room. Hardin, Trish, and I sit on one of the couches, Landon sits on the chair, and Karen and Ken sit on the other couch across from us. It feels as if we are on teams, with Landon acting as a referee.

“Yes, please. It’s got a really great taste,” Trish replies and hands over her empty glass for Karen to fill.

“Thank you, we got it in Greece this summer; it was such an amazing—” She stops midsentence. After a pause, she adds, “A nice place,” before handing Trish back her glass.

Trish smiles and gives a little air salute. “Well, the wine is excellent.”

At first I’m confused by this awkwardness, but then I realize that Karen has gotten the Ken that Trish never had. She gets trips to Greece and all over the world, a huge home, new cars, and most importantly she gets a loving and sober husband. I really applaud Trish for being so strong and forgiving. She’s making a huge effort to be polite, especially given the circumstances.

“Anyone else? Tessa, would you like a glass?” Karen asks as
she finishes pouring one for Landon. I look toward Trish and Hardin.

“Only one, for the holiday,” Karen adds.

I finally give in and reply, “Yes, please.” I’m going to need a glass of wine if the day continues to be this awkward.

As she pours, I see Hardin nodding his head next to me several times. And then he remarks, “What about you, Dad? You want a glass of wine?”

Everyone looks at him with wide eyes and open mouths. I squeeze his hand to try to silence him.

But he continues with a wicked smirk. “What? No? C’mon, I’m sure you do. I know you miss it.”