Page 127 of The Spare

"She didn't like it, but she took it in stride."

Mom bends, setting down the bar and then stepping over to where I'm running, patting me on the arm. "Well, you'll find your way, love."

As expected, she moves to the pull-up bar on the other side of the room, effectively ending that conversation. Despite my effort, we fallinto silence, focusing on our workout routine, not having much else to talk about.

A minute later it hits me like a ton of bricks. It's not that she doesn'twantto talk. It's because she doesn't have a life to talk about.

I hit the button to stop the treadmill three miles short of my goal and step off, stretching my hamstrings. "Mom," I call out, watching her pull herself up effortlessly on the bar.

"Yeah, honey?" she huffs.

"Get off that thing and let's go find something fun to get into."

She jumps down, turning around and smiling brightly."Yeah?"

Her excitement makes me feel bad for a moment, seeing she just wanted an invitation. It's when it also hits me that my mother has respected Mason's wishes and has done what she can to not meddle, to give us space, making me melt even more.

"Yeah." I smile, linking my arm with hers and giggle as we make our way out of the room. "Let's get out of here for a while."

Chapter thirty-nine

Hermosa

Hi my love, are you almost ready to go? I just got my hair done. Dicky and I are will be there in two hour to pick you up. -Maribel

Donna? -Maribel

Mari, will you be too disapointed if I don't go? -Donna

We talked about this, quierida. We will be by your side all night. No one is going to hurt you. You got this. -Maribel

And besides, William is really looking forward to seeing you again. -Maribel

But you know how I feel about the mafia. -Donna

I know sweetheart, but we're all being honored tonight. You, us, and Isobel. It'd look bad if you didn't go. -Maribel

But…-Donna

Nevermind. I am on my way now. We will have a nice relaxing drink, and then the men will pick us both up. -Maribel

Chapter forty

A Mafia Reception

What is he doing?I think, narrowing my eyes curiously.

My attention for the last five to ten minutes has been monopolized by a tall, statuesque man with dark-brown hair. He's leaning a shoulder against a stone pillar on the perimeter of the reception hall, occupying the same side Mason and I are standing on, talking with one of his friends.

The man's a handsome guy, from what I can tell by his profile.

He was walking by us when he looked over, distracted by the sound of my mother's laughter. He paused mid-step, and has been cemented in place ever since. Not moving. And that was over five minutes ago.

"Melody, have you heardanythingI just said?" I jump as Mason's elegant, slightly accented voice disturbs me from staring.

"What? No." I answer absentmindedly, pushing my flute off at him, refusing to look away from the fascinating man who's a few feet away. "Why won't he justaskher already?" I mumble to myself, folding my arms and tapping my toe.

My eyes slide to where mother stands with William, who's leaned in rather close, putting another glass of wine in her hand. Buthehasn't asked her to dance yet. My face breaks out into a wicked smile, and I decide to stir up some trouble. Someone's going to ask her to dance tonight if I've got any say in the matter because after my epiphany the other day while we were working out, I've made it my mission to make my mom's life as full as possible.