Page 34

Thirty-Four

Luna

“What do you think about this?” Kathy asks, holding up the flower arrangement for the umpteenth time for me to approve.

I open my mouth, intending on saying the same thing as the last ten times she’s asked—that it’s lovely—but then her lips twitch.

“I’m kidding,” she says, setting the vase filled with cheerful autumn flowers on the counter then bumping her shoulder against mine. “And I’ll stop torturing you.”

Guilt winds through my middle. “You’re not?—”

A mock frown. “Don’t even try it, kiddo.”

“I’m not,” I tell her, snagging her hand after she spends several moments centering the vase in the island, turning it this way and that, choosing the perfect position to best show off the blooms. “Kathy,” I say, squeezing her fingers, waiting until she looks at me then holding her gaze, wanting to be certain she knows I’m serious.

“I’ve spent the last months overwhelmed by repairs and funeral arrangements, packing up Gram’s things into boxes and cleaning up construction dust,” I murmur.

“Because before that, the only thing I could focus on was making sure she was getting better—and then when we both realized that wasn’t going happen, all my time was filled with making sure she was comfortable and stowing away enough positive memories that I’d have them for the rest of my life. ”

“Honey,” she whispers, eyes glimmering with tears

“When I moved back to Rockfield, I thought it would be temporary, that she would be living in this house again, buzzing around the kitchen, meddling in my life, being a shield between my brother and dad and me.” I sigh.

“That didn’t happen, obviously. We moved her into my dad’s place to complete the repairs her and I became the barrier between them and her.

And I couldn’t think about anything except her and work, so that’s part of why—” I nod toward the rest of the house. “It was in such shambles.”

Kathy snags my hang. “It wasn’t that bad?—”

“Gram would have been so embarrassed,” I murmur. “The dust and boxes, the state of her kitchen and yard, the fact that I was sleeping where I was sleeping. But making this place mine instead of hers…it was accepting that she wasn’t here anymore, that everything was different.”

Kathy sucks in a breath, apology in her eyes.

“I’m not saying this for any other reason than to let you know that your help over the last couple of weeks has really meant a lot.

” I squeeze her fingers again. “You’ve helped me bring back Grams, but also…

” I sweep my hand around the kitchen, repainted and sparkling clean, the towels hanging from the oven and over the end of the sink a cheerful bright blue.

They match the rugs and new towels in the bathrooms, complement the area rugs and runners in the hall and the living room, the blankets in the master bedroom.

All of which I came home to.

All of which is too much and I argued with Kathy about spending so much money on me.

All of which…I gave in to.

Because I don’t have enough money in my account to pay her back—though my lawyers say that, for better or worse, I should have access to my share of the family trust fund soon enough.

I’ll figure out how to deal with that—with the guilt of dirty money, with protecting myself while doing something good with it—another day.

And anyway, money or not, Kathy refused to accept absolutely anything aside from a hug anyway.

I’ll find another way to repay her.

“But you also made this house mine and Aiden’s,” I finish. “And I can’t thank you enough for that. Especially considering the circumstances of our marriage?—”

Her face is gentle, but her tone isn’t. “Just because you two haven’t begun in a traditional way…”

I snort because that’s the understatement of the year and she nudges me in the side with her finger.

“Behave,” she orders. “But just because it’s not traditional doesn’t mean that I’m going to give you up, sweetie. In case you missed it, I like you, peanut, and you might have slipped from our grasp once, but us Blacks don’t plan on letting that happen a second time.”

Butterflies fluttering through my belly. “Is that coming from you or Aiden?”

She grins. “Both of us.” A beat. “Separately.” Her grin widens. “And together.”

That should probably be creepy.

A lot.

But it’s also sweet.

And it’s Kathy.

“I missed you,” I murmur, drawing her into a hug. “But I’m also glad we get to know each other now.” My voice is watery and my eyes start to sting.

“Me too,” she says, and I don’t miss that she’s choked up either. “And sweetie, we’ll talk about you pushing us away—now and then—but on another day. One we’re not punctuating with cake.”

Fear slides through my insides—talking about that is a terrifying notion.

She touches my cheek. “Be brave, kiddo,” she whispers. “Be yourself. And don’t be afraid to grab on to your happiness.”

I exhale, those tears rising, my lungs threatening to hitch on a sob. “Kathy?—”

“You’re going to change the world.” A tug of my ponytail. “You can handle a conversation.”

But can I?

“You can,” she answers the unspoken question. “You can.”

Then she hugs me tight, and in her arms, I think that maybe she’s right, maybe I can, maybe I am strong enough.

Maybe it’s less than me actually being strong enough and more having people on my side who believe I am.

“Thanks, Kathy.”

“Anytime, my beautiful girl.”

I sniff.

She sniffs.

Luckily, before we can devolve into tears and leave the rest of the flowers we need to arrange for the party celebrating Aiden and me to wilt, there’s a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Kathy says, dashing a finger beneath each eye. “And then we’ll finish the party prep.”

“Great,” I say dryly, earning a light punch on my shoulder before she disappears out of the kitchen. I start opening packets of paper plates and napkins, putting plastic utensils into a little organizer that Kathy brought over.

It’s paper and not porcelain, plastic and not stainless steel, maybe not something that my brother or father would think is appropriate, but I love it.

The colors, the care, the fact that we’re having food catered in from Aiden’s favorite barbecue restaurant, that our cake is flavored with hot cocoa and topped with marshmallow cream frosting.

It’s us—the new us, the beginning of Aiden and me.

No secrets. No shame. No hiding.

No—

“Luna dear, someone is here to see you.”

I still, worry creeping along my spine—thinking that someone could be my dad, my brother, here to create chaos—but that worry only lasts a moment. Mostly because I don’t hear any yelling and because Kathy didn’t slam the door, leaving them to rot on the porch, so it can’t be my dad or brother.

When I turn to the hall, my heart convulses again.

God, it’s really been going through the ringer lately.

“Bri!” I exclaim, moving quickly toward her. Mostly because I’m thrilled she’s here, but also because her expression is edgy and it looks like she’s about to spin on her heel and get the fuck out.

Considering I was mentally there as well only weeks ago, I hurry over to her before she runs.

“I so glad you’re here,” I tell her, slowly looping my arm through hers—giving her time to back away, to avoid the contact—before drawing her into the kitchen. “You’ll save me from Kathy’s instructions on how to properly fold napkins.”

“Rude!” Kathy says, not missing a beat and jumping in as exactly as I knew she would. “Just because your mother-in-law wants to make a hundred tiny paper napkin swans?—”

Bri chokes, jerks in my hold.

Yup. Definitely ready to run.

Kathy smiles, but holds it together, sighing morosely and saying, “I just wanted something elegant for my daughter-in-law’s celebration. No bother.” She shrugs. “How about we fold them into flowers instead?”

Bri chokes again.

And Kathy can’t hold it together any longer.

Which means that she starts giggling.

And then I start giggling because?—

“Flowers?” I gasp, loosening my grip on Bri and bending over, holding my middle as I try and stop laughing.

But—

“Your face,” I tell Bri, forcing the words out between my guffaws.

“Oh, my God, your face.” I give myself a moment longer to be amused then, knowing I’ve pushed it far enough, I manage to get it together and straighten, making introductions.

“Bri meet Kathy, Aiden’s mom. Her chocolate chip cookies are to die for and her flower organizing skills far outweigh mine.

Kathy, this is Bri. She and I share a love for all things romantasy novel related along with a strong dislike for folding napkins into flowers or teeny tiny swans. ”

Bri was tense when I began talking, but my introduction has her relaxing, her eyes coming to mine for a beat before she looks at Kathy and extends her hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” she whispers.

“You too, my dear.” Kathy wraps her fingers around Bri’s. “Now, do you want me to make you a plate so you can get some of my chocolate chip cookies before the grubby hockey players get into them or do you want to help me make those paper flowers?”

“Plate please,” Bri and I say at the same time.

Our gazes connect and we grin.

Those smiles widen when Kathy gives an aggrieved sigh.

But when I glance over at her, I see that her eyes are dancing.

Because—instinctively as I knew she would—she’s gleaned exactly how much it means that Bri is here.

And—also instinctively—I know that she’s found another little duckling to tuck under her wing and never let go.

Which is perfect.

Because Kathy Black is exactly the woman that Bri needs.

I just didn’t realize until later that both of us also need a gaggle of grubby hockey players too.