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Erica slipped her notepad into her bag and rose. “We should get out of your way. You have to be exhausted from work and now that Jackson’s doing better, he’s probably going to be hungry.” She offered a tight smile. “Once I find out what’s going on at Peter’s office, I’ll be in touch.”
Allison pushed herself to her feet. Her back screamed in protest, but she ignored the discomfort. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Summer hugged her again, then scooped up Jackson and kissed both cheeks. “See you soon, big guy!”
He put his head on her shoulder. “Summy.”
Summer held him for several seconds before handing him back to Allison.
“Talk soon.”
Allison nodded and opened the front door. When they were gone, she walked over to the sofa and sank down. Jackson crawled off her lap and reached for his teddy bear.
“Hungwe.”
“I’ll bet you are. Just give Mommy a second and I’ll fix you another dinner.”
Something simple, she thought, fighting weariness and a growing sense of dread. Something cheap. She would give herself the evening to not deal with the crap storm that was her life, then face it all in the morning.
9
Erica sat at her kitchen island, watching her mother rinse blackberries.
“They were insanely expensive,” Mara said with a laugh. “But the produce guy said they were delicious.”
She set them on the cheese plate she’d prepared. “All right, I think that’s everything. I put a very nice pinot grigio in the refrigerator. It should be chilled by now.”
Erica waved at the different cheeses, her favorite stuffed olives, the rosemary crackers. “This isn’t spontaneous. You planned it. Why?”
Her mother patted her arm. “Darling, I knew you were meeting with Allison, and that wouldn’t be easy.” Her expression was kind. “Now open the wine and join me at the table. We’ll eat, we’ll talk, we’ll have that second glass.”
Erica’s throat got a little tight. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Of course. You’re my baby girl.” Her smile turned teasing. “Even if you are closer to fifty than forty.”
“Let’s not talk about that.”
Erica retrieved the wine and two glasses. As she sat at the table, she felt a rumble of hunger. On the way home from Allison’s she and Summer had stopped at Taco Bell. Her kid had put away three tacos and two burritos, but Erica had only sipped water. Normally she enjoyed a Crunchy Taco Supreme as much as the next person, but she’d been too rattled by the visit to eat.
Now, with a little time and distance, she thought she might be able to eat something, and she was definitely up for wine.
Mara waited until they’d both filled their plates.
“So, how was it?”
“Awful.” Erica put a little Brie onto a cracker. “The house is small. Maybe a thousand square feet.” She thought about the furniture in the living room, the battered coffee table and the worn sofa.
“There are only two bedrooms. I didn’t know that. When Summer spends the night, she sleeps on a Murphy bed in Jackson’s room.”
Her mother picked up her wine. “You sound outraged.”
“Per the parenting plan, she’s supposed to have her own room.”
“Yes, but that’s not the real problem, is it? What you don’t like is that she doesn’t mind the arrangement. When she’s home with you, she’s mostly a good kid, but she has her bratty, entitled moments. She disses what you do, won’t bother with her appearance and makes it clear she’s very much her father’s daughter. Now you’re afraid that isn’t as much of an act as you’d hoped. She really does like being there.”
Erica did her best not to wince. “You could at least try to be less blunt.”
