Page 128 of I Dreamt That You Loved Me

Sean waved me away with the ladle in his hand. Batter dripped onto the counter. “Sit down and relax,” he said gruffly.

“What he’s trying to say is get out of his way,” my mom said with a laugh.

If it were up to Sean, my mom and I would never lift a finger.

I poured myself a mug of coffee and sat opposite her at the bistro table by the window.

In the distance, the spire of the Chrysler Building rose above the brown brick buildings and shimmered in the sunlight, a view so quintessentially New York that a thrill shot through me.

London had been good to me, but I’d missed my beloved city. When my plane landed at LaGuardia a few weeks ago, I craned my neck to soak up the view of the skyline as we made our final descent and thought,Home, at last.

“All ready for your trip?” I asked. Monks was closed for renovations, so my mom and Sean were taking a road trip up the coast of New England.

A road atlas lay opened on the table with their route to Maine highlighted in neon orange.

“Packed and ready to go,” my mom said, reeling off their itinerary while I flipped through a stack of glossy brochures featuring the Salem Witch Museum, a charming inn on Martha’s Vineyard, and the rugged coastline and lighthouses of Maine.

“When’s your shipment arriving from London?” Sean asked.

“It arrived a few days ago,” I said, returning the brochures to the stack at my mom’s elbow.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me?” Sean closed the oven door and scowled at me over his shoulder. “I would have carried the boxes upstairs for you.”

“It was good cardio. Besides, I needed the workout.”

He exhaled loudly and shot me a look like he couldn’t believe I’d move my own boxes up five flights without his help.

My mom smiled. “Still my stubborn, independent girl.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Sean grumbled. “I told you I would put those bookshelves up for you but no, you went and did it yourself.”

I tskked, rubbing my index fingers together. “Naughty Alice. When are you going to let the big, strong man take care of you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m hardly a damsel in distress.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Sean said, serving our breakfast and refilling our coffee. It was only after he’d ensured that my mom and I had everything we needed that he took a seat. “I know you’re capable. But how many times do I have to tell you that Ilikebeing needed? Ilikedoing things for you.”

She patted his arm. “Next time I want to put up shelves, I’ll let you do it.”

He jerked his chin at me. “How much do you wanna bet she’ll do it herself?”

“I don’t have that kind of money to lose.” I’d inherited my mom’s can-do approach to life and her DIY ethos. She’d always been self-sufficient, and I doubted that would ever change.

“These waffles are delicious,” my mom gushed. “I don’t know how you get them so light and fluffy. Thank you for breakfast, Sean.” She gave him an adoring look. “I appreciate you.”

Sean snorted and jerked his thumb at her. “You see that? This is what she does. She makes it impossible to stay mad at her.”

I laughed. “What can I say? You just gotta love her as she is.”

After a few minutes of small talk, my mom and Sean exchanged a look, the kind couples share when they’re on the same page and could communicate without words. A raise of the brows. A subtle nod.

And then, “So you asked Gabriel for a divorce,” my mom said. “Why didn’t you tell us?” She sounded hurt.

I dragged the last bite of waffle through the syrup. Normally, I would have discussed this with my mom, but she was partly responsible for my decision.

Even though she’d moved on with Sean, she’d clung to the ghost of my father for over a decade.

I didn’t want to end up like her.