Page 35 of Under My Skin

Chapter Thirty-Five

LUCY

Everett’s mom is so full of life. She’s funny, loving, and the way she honors her late husband’s memory in casual conversation is truly beautiful.

She seems so proud to have loved him and been loved by him.

Even as she sits across from me, her dark hair still a little damp after she took the blow-dryer to it, her eyes have this twinkle to them that remind me a little of my own mother.

Since we’ve been here, Everett has taken care of her radiator, cleaned the gutters, and now he’s back inside to fix something in the upstairs bathroom.

It turns out there are a lot of things that needed some attention.

The wood accents on the walls give this cozy home so much character.

There are built-in bookshelves, nooks, and wooden beams sprinkled throughout that make it the type of place you’d like to drink a cup of tea under a blanket.

“So, how are your parents?” Nancy asks as she sets a plate of shortbread cookies on the coffee table. They look like the ones that come in the tins around Christmas time.

“They’re fine.” The words come out quickly, like an automatic response.

She nods slowly. “I heard about their separation. I’m sorry. It must be tough to see your family go through such a big change. This will be good for them, though.”

“Thanks.” My voice comes out smaller than I expected.

How could this possibly be good for them?

Marriage seemed like it was working well for them, too.

I reach for a cookie for the sake of having something to do.

“Did you happen to hear why they’re separating?

” If my own parents won’t give me answers, maybe someone else will.

I don’t think my mom and Nancy were ever extremely close outside of having two boys the same age.

I’m sure there are rumors floating around as to why a couple who have been together most of their lives are suddenly closing shop.

Nancy’s brows furrow. “They haven’t given you a reason?”

I suppress a scoff. If only she knew they hadn’t wanted to tell me at all.

“Not one that makes sense.” I take a bite of the cookie, hating how pathetic it all makes me feel.

I might as well be Nancy Drew in a teen mystery, determined to find answers when the bottom line is that it doesn’t matter.

Maybe Simon is right, whatever my parents’ reasons are, I can’t change the outcome.

The cookie is stale. I’m starting to think it is one of those shortbread cookies from the Christmas tins, and that it’s probably been sitting in her pantry for the past ten months. I eat the rest of it but refrain from grabbing another.

“I don’t think I know anything you don’t,” she says with a sad smile.

“Sometimes people drift apart or want different things in life. I know there was a lot of surprise when your parents first listed the house and people found out about the divorce—I don’t think anyone saw that coming—but as for a reason for the divorce itself, I have no idea. ”

“That’s okay.” I look down at my hands, unsure of what else to say.

“The important thing is that both of your parents feel good about the decision.”

I look up to meet her stare again, and her smile warms.

“I saw your mom at the grocery store not long after they listed the house. She was so wonderful when we lost Brent last year, and I wanted to extend the same level of support if she needed it. But she assured me she was fine and that she and your father were working toward the same goal together—as a team. It’s the way it should be. ”

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod, but I can’t help getting hung up on the word “goal.” What type of goal do they have in mind that they’re willing to destroy our family? Are we just the means that will justify their end? Casualties of love and war?

“So,” Nancy says with a deep inhale. “How long have you and Everett been spending time together?” As she takes a sip of her drink, the coy smile at the corner of her mouth sends my heart into overdrive.

“Oh. We’re not—it’s not—I’m just in town for a few days.”

She nods but doesn’t seem discouraged in the slightest.

“I’m just here to pack up my childhood bedroom.”

“Right,” she says, but nothing about her demeanor has changed.

“And then I’m leaving.”

“Mhm.”

“Back to Denver.”

“I hear it’s beautiful there.”

My mouth opens, but I have no idea what she’s playing at. There’s no way she could know something happened between Everett and me last night . . . could she? I take another sip of my water. “It really is.”

The conversation stalls, and for the first time since getting here I wish Everett would hurry up and finish whatever he’s doing. The way his mom is looking at me like she knows more about my life than I do is making me a little uneasy.

“You know,” she finally says as she sets down her drink.

“I don’t know you very well, but I know my son.

” Lowering her voice, she points up in the direction Everett disappeared to a little while ago.

“And he does not bring girls to my house. I didn’t even meet his ex until they decided to move in together and he couldn’t hide her from me anymore. ”

My eyes jump to the top of the staircase even though Everett is still out of sight. Hearing his mom talk about his past makes me wish I knew more.

“To be fair, I offered to come with him today.” I let out a light laugh. “I basically invited myself.”

“That may be,” she answers simply. “But the fact that you’re sitting here tells me he’s different with you. Even if it’s not like that and you’re leaving.”

I want to point out that maybe he’s different with me because he knows I’m not staying.

There’s no risk of me hanging around longer than I should.

Before I can say anything though, Everett’s footsteps create a steady rhythm overhead.

My eyes jump to the top of the stairs again, this time to find him making his way downstairs.

He pauses when he sees we’ve both stopped talking, and instead, our focus has shifted to him. His eyes lock on his mother. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” she says with her hands in the air. “We had a great chat.” She winks at me before grabbing her drink and heading for the kitchen.

Everett watches her go, then blows out a breath and heads down the rest of the stairs with a shake of his head. Seeing his discomfort somehow eases my own, and by the time he reaches me, I’m biting back a smile. “Hey.”

He cranes his neck to look in the direction his mom went. “Hey.”

“Everything fixed?”

Everett looks back at me, his expression softening. “I think so.” The sound of running water comes from the kitchen, and he lowers his voice as he points a finger between the kitchen and me. “Was this weird?”

“A little,” I say with a laugh. “But I like your mom. She’s got spunk.”

Everett huffs out a breath as he scratches the side of his jaw. “Yeah, she’s got something.” He puts his hands in his pockets and nods over his shoulder toward the door. “Ready to go?”

“Sure.”

As I get to my feet, Nancy comes back into the living room. “Heading out?” she asks. Her voice is light, but her eyes dim with disappointment.

Everett runs a hand over his hair. “Uh, yeah. Lucy has some work she needs to get done.”

I look at him, but his eyes stay fixed on his mother. I don’t mind that he’s using me as an excuse to leave. He’s not lying. I’ve already sent my client an email promising I’d get them the final files by the end of the day.

“Of course,” Nancy says with a sincere smile. “Well, it was great seeing you.” Her eyes linger on Everett for a moment before falling on me as she adds, “Both of you.”

“Thanks,” I say. “It was great seeing you, too.”

She nods to my response, but then her eyes pull to her tall son standing next to me. “Do you know if you’ll be back soon?”

The hesitancy in her voice is enough to break my heart. I can see the dynamic between them so clearly. She needs him, but he’s needed space. I bite the inside of my cheek as I wait for Everett’s response. I hope he can see how hard she’s trying to be strong for him.

Everett takes a breath and nods. “Yeah. I’ll be back.”

Nancy grins, this time with a slight shine in her eyes. Blinking back the emotion that just came over her, she waves us toward the door with both hands. “Go, go, go. Don’t let me hold you up.”

Everett pauses, and for a moment I think he might hug her, but after a split second, he just says, “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I will. Now, go. ”

With that, we say another quick round of goodbyes before heading outside. Everett stays quiet as we walk down the driveway to his dad’s old bike. I wonder if just seeing it parked here brings back memories for him—a simpler time when he wasn’t the rider.

The question of whether he’s okay is on the tip of my tongue, but I press my lips together and fight the urge to ask.

Instead, we stay in comfortable silence until he has my helmet in his hands.

Looking down at the face shield for a moment, he says, “Thanks for coming. That was . . .” He glances at the house behind us.

“That was better.” Placing the helmet on my head, he adds, “She’s different around you. ”

“I think you both are just carrying a lot.”

He pauses, mulling my words over, so I continue.

“It’s like you both want to help lighten the load for each other, but your arms are already full.”

Reaching for his own helmet, his mouth quirks into a fraction of a smile, but there’s a trace of sadness behind it.

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Before I can register the emotion on his face, he pulls his helmet over his head, and I’m left staring back at my own warped reflection. “The Steamy Mug?”

Did I say something wrong? I’m suddenly glad the helmet hides my own expression just as much. I don’t need Everett to know how much I’m analyzing him from behind the mask. “Yeah. That would be great.”

He pulls on his gloves and pats a rhythm on the side of his thighs. Then, once he’s seated on the bike, he offers me a hand like a chauffeur for a limousine might. I force a laugh, still not sure I can read him.

Placing my other hand on his shoulder, I hoist my leg up and over, so I’m seated behind him.

My arms wrap around his waist, but even though this is starting to feel like second nature to me, my brow stays pinched for the entire drive.

It may have been a while since I’ve slept with someone casually, but he’s acting like he’s never seen me naked.

Scratch that. He’s acting like he’s never even thought of me naked.

Then again, we were just at his mom’s house where he did the things his dad used to take care of around the house.

He’s probably sorting through a few different emotions.

God, I’m an asshole.

Of course his mind is preoccupied. Anyone forced to face their grief is bound to sort through some things. I can’t make this about me because it isn’t about me at all.

Taking a steadying breath, I lean my head against his back and feel my brow relax as I surrender to whatever this is.