Page 52
My phone rings for the thousandth time, and I answer it blindly. Howard’s incessant whining has to be better than this painfully awkward silence.
“You’re lucky you’re in a different state, Tate Anthony, or I would’ve knocked you into the middle of next week looking both ways for Sunday.”
Not Howard.
My mother’s colorful threats fill the line. Ignoring her calls wasn’t smart, and my eardrums are now paying the consequences.
“I know, Momma. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Do you know what seeing those pictures did to my blood pressure?” She releases a dramatic sigh. “Vera, the old bat down the street is going to have a field day with this. Your fans are out of control. This is wrong. Sick.”
“I know, Momma. I’m sorry.”
“What are you, a parrot?”
Talia pretends not to listen from behind the wheel, her attention on the road, but her lip twitches.
“It’ll blow over soon. Howard is on it.” I hope. The thought of some creep out there with a bunch of unsolicited pictures of me makes my skin crawl.
“That fool is as sharp as a mashed potato. I don’t like him or this situation.”
My mom enjoys my newfound fame as much as Talia. They’re two peas in a pod. It’s ironic, my mom wasn’t too happy about me paying off her mortgage, the same way Talia was upset about me paying for her law school loans.
There’s no winning with these two women.
“Me neither, but it’s out there and there’s nothing I can do.”
She’s silent for a beat, a real feat for my mother.
“Is our girl there?”
Our girl.
“She’s here.”
“You tell me you’re there to look after your health, but I know you, son. I also love you, but I’ll never forgive you if you let her get away.” I wonder how long she’s kept that comment in her armory.
I cut a glance at Talia; her expression is unreadable. “Why do you think I’m here, Momma?”
“The question is, why did you leave in the first place? And don’t tell me she told you to. The two of you might be grown, but you’re still stupid and naïve. Love is hard, son.” The familiar chime of my mom’s doorbell rings in the background. “But a life without each other might be harder.”
Then, like the absolute nuisance my mother is, she hangs up.
“How is she?” It’s the first time Talia’s spoken in almost an hour.
“It’s a good thing she isn’t in strangling distance.” Jesus, I’m tired. My body feels numb. When was the last—
“Tate!”
I blink.
We’re…
We’ve stopped.
We’re on the side of the road.
We…we were just trundling over the bumpy back roads.
