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I let that linger. We haven’t talked much about Jeff, but I’ve asked pretty much everyone in town about him, and no one has a bad word to say. Of course, I suspect his ex-wife might have a different story.
My mirror image, twenty-five years older, looks back at me, quirking her brow. Suddenly I’m not so sure what to say, or how to say it. I settle on, “I realize I’ve been kind of strange about Jeff.”
“Chari, I told you to talk to me about him when you’re ready.”
“I guess I’m ready. And I really want you to be happy. It’s just . . .” I swallow. There’s no nice way to say this. “Your track record isn’t great.”
My mom laughs, but I’m serious.
“Dad is a total jerk. That engineer guy was horrible. You do really well, with the business and everything . . .”
She sits down at the table, so I do the same.
“You’re as protective of me as Devon is of both of us,” she says. “And I appreciate that. But Jeff is not your father. Not even close.”
“Obviously. But if he’s such a catch, why has he been single for so long?”
She gives me a look as if to ask,Really?
“You are the exception.”
Mom smiles from one side of her mouth.
“So maybe I’ve been slightly . . . closed off to him,” I admit, and I can’t help but grin as I add, “But you’re a big girl and can handle yourself.”
I love my mother’s laugh.
“Thank you, Char.” She reaches across the table for my hand. “I also know why you still live at home. Why you invite me out with your friends so much.”
I try to argue, but she won’t have it.
“You don’t need to do that, you know. I’m fine. Even without Jeff, I am fine.”
I can tell she wants to say something more.
“What?” I press.
Mom sighs, hesitating.
“What is it?”
“You don’t need to stay here for me.”
She’s totally right. I should have my own place by now. But the thought of her living alone . . .
“I kind of like not having rent payments,” I say, knowing it’s a weak argument.
“I don’t mean in this house.”
“In Bridgewater?” I ask, genuinely shocked. “Why would I want to leave? I have a good job. You’re here. Devon is here.”
She squeezes my hand and stands.
“A good job. Yes. But one you love? You’ve complained about this small town for as long as I can remember. I honestly never thought you’d come back after college.”
I stand too.
“I like Bridgewater,” I say, without passion. “And I love my kids.”
