After I came home from Cole’s the next morning, I spent several hours sorting through the den. During lunch I read through the rest of Beth’s journal. More of the same and no information whatsoever. The only thing of note? At the very end, there was evidence of three pages that had been ripped out.
Around five, hungry, I wandered into the kitchen to grab a snack before showering for my dinner date with Cole. When I’d come home around eight, Mom’s car had been missing from the garage. I figured she’d been at the gym. However, when I saw her dart past the doorway of the den around nine, she’d been wearing jeans and a blouse. Wherever she’d been, it was not the gym.
Now I found her in the kitchen wearing her apron and in the process of putting together a tuna casserole for our dinner. For some reason she thought it was my favorite. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I hated most casseroles, and especially ones with tuna. The dish had been Beth’s favorite, not mine. Having a few bites and hiding the rest under a napkin was a small price to pay for my mother’s contentment.
“Hey, Mom.”
She raised her head to look at me. “Look what the cat dragged in. How was your night?”
I blushed and immediately started sweating. I was forty-five years old and the mother of an adult and still embarrassed that my mother assumed I’d had sex.
“It was nice. I’d had some wine and didn’t want to drive home.” I would omit the part about the stranger running across Cole’s lawn.
Mom raised one eyebrow. “Very responsible of you.”
I went to the refrigerator to hide my flushed face and pulled out a diet soda, then sat at the table.
“You must have had a nice time then?” Mom sprinkled breadcrumbs over the top of her casserole.
“Yes, I did. He made risotto with vegetables from his garden, which was delicious. We sat on his patio. So peaceful. You should see what he did with the property. His house is fabulous.” I was babbling and sounded about fourteen.
“A man who cooks. My generation wasn’t that way. Or at least your father wasn’t.” Mom smiled as she brushed her hands on the front of her apron. “Will you be seeing him again? Or was it one of those casual things that happens after wine?”
To hide my embarrassment, I rolled my eyes. “Mom, really? Nothing like that happened.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I know how young people are these days.”
“We didn’t sleep together.”
“Sure, whatever you say. What did you two do all night?” She spoke with a casual lilt in her voice. The same tone she’d used when I was a kid when attempting to manipulate me into confessing something she already knew I’d done.
“Talked.” Kissed. Talked some more. Had more wine. “Had dinner and wine.”
“Right, the wine.”
“Why the interrogation? I’m forty-five years old.” I slid the saltshaker to the other side of the table.
“No interrogation whatsoever. I expected you home around nine p.m. with a definite decision that the crush you had as a kid didn’t withstand the test of time. Eight in the morning indicates something else.”
“He gives me butterflies. Just like he always did.” I returned the saltshaker to its mate. “It’s the best evening I’ve had in a long time. I’m crazy about him.” I’m in love with him, just as I’d always been. I kept that to myself too. Best to break Mom in slowly.
“Has he asked you out again?”
“Yes, he asked me out to dinner for tonight, but if you’d like me to stay in, I can cancel.”
“Don’t you dare. We can have this tomorrow or whenever.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Two nights in a row. You two kids are awful cute.”
“We’re not really kids,” I said. “Even though it feels like it when I’m with him.”
She smiled, rather smugly. “I’m all for it. You need something to liven you back up.”
“I’m not lively enough?”
“You know what I mean, dearest. I always liked Cole, but he was intense. He’s not the type to do anything casually. You be careful with his feelings.”
“It’s not like I’m some kind of heartbreaker.”
Mom chuckled. “You might be. You don’t know. Maybe you grew into it. If you’re enjoying a summer fling only to return to Seattle, you’d best tell him that.”
“I’m not the casual type of person, either.”
Her head jerked up. “What do you mean? Like you might move back here to be with him?”
“Maybe. And to be closer to you, obviously.”
“I have a feeling I’m not nearly as hunky as Cole Paisley,” Mom said. “Whatever gets you back here is fine with me.”
“Where were you this morning?” I asked casually, hoping to lure her into an honest answer as I sat at the table.
She smoothed imaginary crumbs off the counter with the flat of her hand. “What do you mean?”
“I saw you roll in around nine, acting very sneaky.”
“I went out for groceries.”
“You didn’t have any in your arms when you came in. I saw you.”
“For heaven’s sake, you should’ve been an attorney. I went for a drive. Is that a crime?”
I laughed. “You’re so defensive, which tells me you’re hiding something.”
“You’re not funny. Not even a little.”
“Mom, do you have a boyfriend?”
She gasped as if I’d suggested she rob a bank. “Carlie, don’t be ridiculous.”
“You’ve been acting secretive. The whole time I’ve been home.”
“I have most certainly not.”
I left it at that. My intention was not to have my mom feeling bad. Although my curiosity about what she was up to grew by the day.
I suppose I was keeping secrets from her as well. Telling her about the journal before I understood what all of it really meant would just cause her unnecessary fretting. I was of two minds about whether to tell her about it at all if it yielded no information. Did she really need to know that Beth had another
