Did he think I was going to jump into his arms, declare my undying love, and pick up like the last ten years never happened? Because I kind of felt like that’s what he thought. Why did God make men so stupid sometimes?
I looked across the island at my mom, as she hadn’t said much. With her facial expression conveying a bit of anger and sympathy, I think I was maybe better off not knowing what she was thinking.
“Kenny is an idiot,” she stated plainly. Wow, name calling. My mom was fired up. “He’s the reason you left us. And he thinks he can say sorry with a couple I love you’s thrown in and that you’ll take him back?”
Oh, so that’s why she was upset. Because I’d left.
Strange, how naive I’d been to never consider how my breakup with Kenny affected my family. I’d just assumed they didn’t care that much. I mean, sure, they felt bad for me, but I didn’t think about how my absence had hurt them. It had damaged my relationship with everyone, and because I was so wrapped up in my own despair, I’d selfishly only cared about my own misery.
“Charlotte, it’s your life and I’m not going to tell you what to do.”
Yes, she was.
“But I think it would be a huge mistake for you to give him another chance. You treated him like royalty. And then you go off to college and culinary school so you can come back and make a better life for the both of you, and he goes and sleeps with the meanest girl in town. Ashley Wells is a spoiled brat. And any man who shows the slightest bit of interest in her should be avoided like the plague.”
Hmm, now tell me what you really think, Mom.
“I’m not getting back together with Kenny.”
“Good,” she fumed, placing her hands on her hips.
“Mom, do you think I would have been happy here?” I asked. “If Kenny hadn’t cheated, do you think I would have been happy quitting school and getting married?”
“Charlotte, I’ve learned that happiness is what you make of it. But I can tell you that no man is going to make you happy. I think you may have regretted quitting college. And then you wouldn’t have gone to culinary school, which was also part of your dream. Kenny wanted you to choose. But he had a choice too. He could have moved to Portland and gotten a job until you finished and were ready to come back.”
I shook my head. “Mom, Kenny would never leave this town.”
“You’re right, he probably never will. But that’s what love does. It makes sacrifices. And he wasn’t willing to do that, even though you were willing to give up your dreams to be with him.”
That’s because he had been my dream.
“If you move back, are you going to be able to handle seeing Kenny?” she asked cautiously. What she meant was, are you going to be able to resist him?
“I guess I’ll have to,” I replied.
“Well, there are other men here,” she smiled slyly.
I rolled my eyes. “Mom, nothing is going to happen with Cole.”
“Who said I was talking about Cole?” She feigned ignorance.
“The dinner,” I said dryly.
“Oh yes, that,” she grimaced. “It was very unfortunate timing with you finding a dead body and that whole business with Fern and the illegal alcohol. But,” she brightened. “If you’re living here, you’ll have plenty of time to get to know him under more normal circumstances.”
Here we go again. “I don’t even know if I’m going to move back.”
“I know, but you’re considering it, and if there was ever a good reason to come back, Cole’s name is written all over it,” she winked.
I ignored her last comment and focused on the recipe in front of me. If I pretended I was annoyed, she’d eventually move on. Surprisingly, I wasn’t upset. Despite that I was almost thirty and my mom was still telling me what I should do, this afternoon was the most heartfelt conversation we’d had in years.
And I missed this. It was so easy for me to get caught up in my mother’s critical comments, but I knew that she loved me. And if I lived here, we would have a chance to mend our relationship, which would be good for both of us. As long as she didn’t tell me I was puffy.
Chapter Thirteen
As I lumbered down the stairs the next morning, I could hear Fern humming an off-pitch melody.
“Well, hello, sleepyhead.” Fern took in my bedraggled appearance. “Rough night? I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“Yeah,” I yawned. “My mom needed help baking for a fundraiser, since the bakery backed out on her last minute.”
“Oh.” Fern turned back to the stove to grab the tea kettle. “I heard they had rats!” she hooted. “Maybe they’ll be closed for good this time. Hey, less competition for you,” she grinned excitedly.
I made my way to the breakfast bar, and hoisted myself up on a stool. “After yesterday, I don’t know if I’m cut out for running my own business.”
“Why do you say that?” Fern poured me a cup of coffee and set it on the counter in front of me.
“Because I’m exhausted.” Leaning forward, I inhaled the very black brew. “Fern, would you please get me some creamer?”
“Sure thing, hon.” She started back to the fridge. “You work long hours at your job. I think what wore you out was your mother.” Fern returned with the creamer and a bowl of whipped cream and a spoon.
Yeah, it was that kind of morning.
“You may have a point. When I got there, she said she only needed three cakes, but then she got a call from someone handling the refreshments, and said the bakery was supposed to make twenty dozen cookies.”
Fern’s hands landed on her hips. “Don’t tell me your mom had you making cookies all night!”
I nodded, unable to speak
