Page 50 of Tell Me Something

I nodded while fighting my tears.

“Nothing says it has to be done on that day. If you’re dreading the happy occasion on which she wanted you to think of her, then what’s the point? Instead, maybe read it when you’re ready. If it’s close to Christmas, maybe you open the card for it on the twenty-third instead, for example. Then you can spend Christmas knowing how she felt but not anticipating the pain of reading the letter. Or open it after the holiday. The point is I think you should pick when you want to have those moments instead of letting the calendar dictate them.”

I really liked his idea. “Maybe. I realize she never intended these letters to make me sad. She wanted me to know that she was thinking of me, it made her feel at peace that I would have a part of her this way.”

“I think you’re right. But, Haylee, it’s only been a matter of months. The pain is fresh. Until it dulls, you need to do what you can for you. She would want that.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, drying my eyes.

He kissed my nose. “When my dad died ten years ago, I felt so cheated that it was sudden. I kept thinking, if only I’d had more time or known it was coming. If only he’d imparted more wisdom to me, it would hurt less. But turns out, it doesn’t. I see you honoring your mom, and her death still hurts you. It still robbed you of time with her.”

“How did your father die?”

“Massive heart attack on his second day of vacation. Go figure.”

“I’m sorry. It’s never easy. How’s your mom?”

“I’d say she’s resilient. Even if she wasn’t, she would still make me think she was. So where in this plan of your mother’s did you go to law school and become a prominent lawyer?”

“Ha, you’re very perceptive.”

He smiled, and I enjoyed being able to share this with him.

“My mom had a lot of amazing qualities, but believing in equality for women and wanting me to be independent and successful weren’t on the list. In her mind, I should instead be looking for a man to take care of me. Luckily, she didn’t fight me on Stanford. Where better to meet a successful man than a top-rated college? But law school? Oh, man, did she not want me to go. In her old-fashioned world view, the man was supposed to be the lawyer. My role would be as a dutiful, supportive wife.”

“Ah, so law school is from your father?”

“Absolutely. He used to say it was our little secret, but his little girl would never be some man’s arm candy.”

“Good thing I admire your brain,” he quipped, running his hand over my ass. “So your mom wanted you to be a housewife, cooking and cleaning and taking care of your husband?”

“Oh, my God, no. I was to be a proper Southern wife, which meant no cooking or cleaning but coordinating the people who did. My talents would be concentrated on throwing beautiful parties, catered of course, looking poised and perfect in designer clothing, and exercising social responsibility. A proper Southern woman knows how to smile her way out of the rudest of situations and say ‘bless her heart’ to anyone, the perfect passive-aggressive comment.” I ended in a Southern accent.

“Well, you’ll probably love North Carolina then. There’s definitely that Southern thing there,” he chuckled.

I sighed, enjoying this conversation but feeling slightly remorseful. “I didn’t mean to paint my mom in such a terrible light. All that said, she was a wonderful mother. I never had a nanny, my parents seldom went away without me, and I went to bed every night knowing that I was loved. My mom was the yang to my dad’s yin, and I got the best of both of them.” My eyes were starting to get heavy.

“I think you may be the yang to my yin,” Josh said on a whisper.

CHAPTER TEN

O nce a year Gamble Advertising held a meeting for the vice presidents at the headquarters office in Charlotte, North Carolina. For a week, all of the VPs around the country came in for strategy sessions regarding ad campaigns and networking. We took the short trip down on Sunday afternoon in preparation for the Monday start.

Everyone was staying at the Marriott hotel close to the office with the exception of Josh, who owned a house fifteen minutes south of the city. I was disappointed to drop him at his front door without receiving an invitation inside, but why should this house be any different from his home in New York? Clearly both were off limits. At least the time saved would give me an opportunity to get checked in and go for a run in the hotel gym. I hadn’t run in weeks and knew the longer I went without, the harder it would be to get back into it.

I was three miles in on the hotel treadmill with my iPod’s workout play list blaring in my ears when a good-looking executive type walked into the gym and gave me an assessing glance. Since I was at a full sprint in nothing but a sports bra and running shorts, he was getting quite the view. With my luck, he was one of the Gamble VPs.

I took a headphone out of the ear closest to him when I realized he was trying to talk to me from the next treadmill over.

“Uh, sorry, I just said you’re kind of putting me to shame. Maybe you should slow down,” he joked.

“Five more minutes, and your ego will be safe again.” I smiled and put my headphones back in.

After completing my remaining time, I slowed the machine down and wiped my face before taking out my earbuds.

“My ego thanks you,” he quipped with an easy grin. He was tall and handsome in a classic, boy-next-door way. On top of that, he had a great smile.

I laughed in good humor.