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“It’s one thing to resent my success,” she added. “But to put Summer in the middle is awful.”
“It is,” her mother agreed. “And she’ll come around. Just be patient. The more you resent him, the harder it is to let go.”
“Let go? Peter and I are old news. I’ve moved on.”
“All evidence to the contrary?”
“What evidence? Do you think I still care about Peter? I don’t.”
“You’re not in love with him—I’m clear on that. But you haven’t let go of past hurts. You hold yourself back.”
Mothers, Erica thought grimly. Always annoying. “You’re talking about Killion, aren’t you? I don’t know why you can’t accept our relationship for what it is. Not conventional, but it works for us.”
“You’re holding him at bay.” Her mother’s gaze was steady. “You’re never going to marry him.”
“I’m not marrying anyone. I don’t need that in my life.”
“What about love?”
“I have plenty. I have you and Summer. I don’t need a man.”
“You need companionship, Erica. You need a life partner who is your equal. Someone to have your back. It’s lonely when you don’t.”
Erica didn’t want to talk about this. She was fine on her own. “Look at you. After Dad left, you weren’t interested in getting married again. You have lots of boyfriends, but no one serious.”
“Those who can, do. Those who can’t, offer advice.”
Monday evening Erica found herself hovering outside of Allison’s closed door. It was barely eight, so the other woman should be awake. Still she hesitated, not really wanting to speak to her, but knowing they had to figure out some logistics.
She told herself to grow a pair, then knocked briskly. Seconds later the door opened.
“Oh, hi. You’re home.”
The faint surprise made sense, Erica thought. She’d worked late to avoid dinner with Allison and Jackson. Well, not Jackson, but they were a package deal.
“I am. Do you have a minute? I thought we should discuss some ground rules. Knowing each other’s expectations should make things go more smoothly.”
“Um, sure. Good idea.”
Erica pointed down the hall. “Let’s go in my office.”
She led the way to the back bedroom she’d converted into a home office. The walls were a pale blue-gray and there was a glorious Oriental rug on the floor. The closet had been modified with floor-to-ceiling shelving for her records and office supplies, leaving the workspace serene and tidy.
As Erica gestured toward one of the chairs on the visitors’ side of her desk, she remembered Peter complaining her office was never messy. He’d said it was unnatural that she didn’t pile papers everywhere.
She told herself not to think about him and offered Allison what she hoped was a warm smile.
“How are you settling in?”
Allison shifted in her chair, as if trying to get comfortable. Erica eyed her huge belly and thought that probably wouldn’t happen until after the baby was born.
“It’s an adjustment, but again, I really appreciate you—”
“Oh, dear God! No. I don’t want to hear thank you.”
Allison ducked her head. “All right, but I’m thinking it.”
“Think quietly.”
