When I managed to serve an ace to Juanita, she groaned dramatically. “You beat me again, Raegan. How dare you!”
That made me belly-laugh, and I blurted, “Why can’t you be my mom? I bet you’d never cheat on anybody!”
My face fell as I heard my words, and her expression sobered. I opened my mouth to take it back, but she touched my bicep with a small smile on her face.
“If I were your Mamá, mi hijo would be your brother. It’s in the past, and your mother loves you deeply.”
I pressed my lips together, feeling ashamed of myself, but I nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Her hand rubbed up and down. “No. Don’t say that, either. You said what was on your mind. Getting it out makes room for what really should be on your mind. Sí?”
I covered her hand with mine. “Thank you, Juanita. Those are very wise words.”
She smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome, mi querido.”
My smile widened hearing her call me that for the first time in years. “I missed that too,” I murmured.
Clint wandered over to us. “All right, on that note, Mamá. I think we’ll call you an Uber, and —”
“Clint Pablo! I do not need an Uber. My last glass of wine was nearly two hours ago. Would you like to give me a field sobriety test?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. I loved when Juanita did things like that to Clint.
Clint ignored me. “I’d like to be certain you’re going to get home safe. Rather than call Uber, we could have Laura take you home. She bolted before you got here the other day.”
Juanita wagged a finger at Clint. “That’s a nice tactic, mi hijo. But no dice. I’ll be fine. It isn’t even nine-thirty. I’ll call you when I get home.” She turned to me. “If you have nothing to do tomorrow, you’re welcome to come by my salon. Things have changed since you were there last. And, I have more than one stylist who would love to get their hands into your virgin hair and highlight it for you.”
Clint growled before he said, “Mamá, don’t talk about Rae’s hair and the word virgin. I don’t care if it doesn’t mean what it sounds like it means.”
She glared at Clint, but I grabbed her hand and squeezed. “If he’s got work tomorrow, I might take you up on that.”
He leveled a glare at me, but it faded when he shook his head. “Let’s go, Mamá. I’ll walk you to your car.”
I stood up and gave her a hug. “Thank you for the food and wine, Juanita. You’re a lifesaver!”
“Think nothing of it, Raegan.”
Five minutes later, I lounged on the couch. Clint sauntered back into the room and leaned over me. “Are you drunk?” he asked with fake malice lacing his tone.
I shrugged. “Not really... do you want me to be? It wouldn’t take much.”
His lips shifted as he thought about it. “I’m having a nightcap, but you’re gonna have half a glass of wine. Agreed?”
My hands glided out in front of me. “Who am I to argue?”
He scratched his forehead. “Jesus. You are drunk.”
I stood up. “Am not! Your mom’s just fun, Clint. I always told you that, you know.”
He chuckled and moved to the kitchen. “You would think that. Then again, I think your mom’s fun too, so it makes us even.”
Clint
I CLINKED MY TUMBLER of Bushmills against Raegan’s wine glass. “To tomorrow, honey.”
Her eyes slid to the side, but she repeated, “To tomorrow, Clint.”
While sipping my whiskey, I kept my eyes on her. She took in a moderate amount of wine and swallowed.
“Why are we toasting to tomorrow?”
I raised a brow for a moment. “It should only get better from here, honey.”
She lifted her chin for a moment before dropping it back in place dramatically. “From your lips to God’s ears, Clint. I didn’t say so earlier, but I was right. You said murder is the worst, and I shouldn’t look for more, but do you see what happened? I find out someone wants me dead, and I might be putting Mom in danger. That should be the worst, right? Nope. Mom lays the ultimate on me. I’m telling you. When I think it can’t get any worse, it damn sure does.”
I shook my head. “Honey, part of that is the wine talking.”
She opened her mouth, but I put a finger to her lips.
“No, baby. What your mother shared, that’s bad. And the feelings you have about it are legitimate. But the thing is, you need to remember when you were ten, twelve, fourteen, and fifteen. I know you lost your father way too early. But, think back. Were you and Wynnie happy?”
She kept quiet, so I said, “My guess, you two were happy as fuckin’ clams. I won’t compare your upbringing to mine since nobody should watch their mother take a beating because she’s sharing her culture with her children. And no son should have to protect his mother when he’s eleven or twelve years old. But, Rae, you found out your parents cheated on each other. The key words there are ‘each other.’ You still had two adults who gave a damn about you all day, every day. That’s a fuck-ton more than some kids get.”
Her lips pursed for a moment. “Well. Now that I feel like a self-centered douche—”
“Nope. Not gonna hear any of that, either. I didn’t disagree with your feelings earlier, but tomorrow will be a better day, honey.”
She took a deep breath and looked like she would say something, but she didn’t.
I gave her a look. “Raegan. You were never a cynic before. Why are you starting now?”
She exhaled. “Because, for the most part, since I came back here, Clint, nothing has gotten better. The lone exception is you being interested in another chance with
