Page 115 of Paint Our Song

Miles stands next to the couch for a minute, watching her sleeping. She really does look like she’s aged so much in the last five years, and Miles chalks that up to never being home. He’s missed so much of her.

He nudges her shoulder gently. “Ma. Wake up. Don’t sleep here, you’ll get a backache.”

She wakes up slowly, blinking around the room in a daze. “Oh. I dozed off.”

“Yeah, I’ll clean this up for you.” Miles grabs her takeout container and brings it to the kitchen. He says over his shoulder, “I’m going to drive back to the city.”

“Now?”

“Yes,” he says. “Sorry, I know I keep going back-and-forth without any warning, but there’s something I need to do right away.”

Mom follows him to the kitchen, frowning. “Why right away? It can’t wait until tomorrow?”

He shakes his head and throws the containers into the bin. She didn’t have a drink, so he gets a glass of water and hands it to her. “Need to talk to someone.”

“It’ll be very late once you get back to the city, though.”

“I know, but I’ll still try.”

She gets that wry smile of hers. “Making up with Calvin? Why did you fight, anyway?”

Even when he’s being purposely vague, sheknows.Miles says, “It’s nothing. Was being a bit insecure, so I backed off, but I’ll fix it.”

He’s downplaying it on purpose. As usual, he doesn’t want her to worry. She doesn’t need to know about the stupid ways he messes up.

“Is he your boyfriend? You realize you never actually told me he is.”

“I don’t know. Someone called me his boyfriend, and he didn’t deny it, but I’m not really sure right now.”

“Okay.” She fiddles with her necklace. “Do you need help packing?”

“Nah! I’ve got it.”

Miles runs to his room and stuffs clothes into a duffel bag. He sends a text to Calvin telling him he’s heading back to the city, though he knows it’ll most likely go ignored like all the other ones. When he heads back down, Mom’s waiting by the foot of the stairs,beaming at him.

Despite the way she’s smiling, Mom’s twisting her pendant in her fingers almost forcibly. It makes Miles wince. Miles doesn’t tell her about his bad days, and he’s always had the hunch that it’s the same for her. Even if they don’t talk, he’s attuned to the telltale signs that she’s upset.

“I don’t have to go,” he says.

“Don’t be silly. You need to go after Calvin. Let me walk you out.”

Mom walks him to his car, tip-toeing to give him a quick kiss on the cheek and opening the door for him. Before getting in, Miles glances at the inn across the street, then at their own two-storey house that used to be much noisier and not so empty.

I think she’s just like you, bottling it up for your sake—that’s what Calvin had said.

“I really miss Dad,” Miles suddenly blurts out.

Her expression softens and her fingers clasp her pendant again, almost instinctively. “I do too.”

“I’m sorry I don’t go home that often. It’s not fair to you… You’re here by yourself.”

“No.” She steps closer and wraps her arms around him. “You’re so thoughtful—always. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I’m being selfish, Ma. Someone—well, a couple of people, actually—said I bottle up my feelings when I should be more honest with you.”

Surprisingly, she chuckles. She holds his gaze and says, “We can both be more honest with each other. I really, really miss him. I am more than okay with you not coming home very often. What I amnervous about is that you’re lonely, but I don’t know how to talk to you about that. I’ve never been good at talking, not like your dad was. Both of us? We’re good at rambling and at deflecting, but when it came to being honest, that was all your dad.”

Her voice cracks and she clears her throat, then gives Miles a big smile that he can recognize resembles the one he puts on a lot, when he’s pretending he’s not about to fall apart. And, yeah, he sees it now—that they’re more similar than he thought, and they have a lot to learn about being honest with each other.