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A round of jumping jacks does little to take the edge off my anxiety. The desire to see her smile burns through my veins. I need to sweep her into my arms for a hug, to hear her laughter and stories about the lengths she goes to procure some of her beloved plants.
I close my eyes, hands on my hips.
We could live anywhere. Hell, we could explore the world, one type of cereal at a time. Moving her plant collection would be a chore, but surely there’s a plant-moving specialist out there. That’s a thing, right? Just like moving pianos or other instruments.
“Come on. Come on. Come on. . .” I whisper, trying my phone again. “Yes!”
I navigate to my texts, an instant dose of pleasure flooding me when I see a reply from her. She says she’s okay, but there’s a tendril of doubt that I can’t deny. From the moment we met almost two decades ago, she’s put on a brave face.
I hate her family for making her that way, but that’s not worth thinking about now. Instead, I need to figure out where she is without ruining the surprise.
Kingston: What are you up to tonight?
A handful of minutes pass, and there are still no dots to indicate that she’s replying.
The screen switches to show an incoming call from my mom. Not the woman I’m dying to hear from, but I answer her call anyway.
“Hi, Mama.”
“Kingston! Ciao, darling. How are you? The girls tell me you’re in the city.”
I’m not the least bit surprised they passed along word that I was coming back to the States. Bunch of gossips. Secretly, I don’t mind. I love how close we are, even when we’re scattered around the world.
“I just got in. Iceland was a bit problematic.”
“Problematic?” Though she’s spent over two decades in New York, she hasn’t lost her Italian accent.
“A volcano.”
“Oh! Well, I’m glad you made it safely. Let’s have dinner. I want to catch up. Bring Katherine.”
“Um. . . sure. Let me see when she can make it.” I’ve gotta find her first. We need to talk.
“Sure. Sure.” Her voice goes muffled. Then, “I really wish you two would stop dancing around each other.”
“Ma—”
“I know. I know. But she loves you, Kingston. She’s waited while you trot the globe. She’s not going to wait forever.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
My mother rarely grills me like this, and I’ve always appreciated that fact. She’s dedicated to her kids, her family, and her company. For the most part, she lets us mess up on our own so we can learn. Her mother is not so easygoing. But my dad’s milder personality has helped temper Mama over the years.
“This isn’t about grandkids, is it?”
“I’m too young to be a grandmother, Kingston Saint.” She curses beneath her breath in rapid Italian, and I can’t help but chuckle.
“You say that now.”
She makes a contemplative humming sound like she doesn’t want to admit I’m right. I grin and wait.
“What are you waiting for?” The way she parrots Marko’s exact statement sends a chill up my spine. “I want you to be happy, Kingston. Truly. And I think Katherine makes you happy, so I hate to see you wasting time. But I’m done. Come see us while you’re here.”
“I will, Mama.”
We say our goodbyes, and I’m left staring out the window. She said nothing I haven’t already thought about.
