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I reach over and rip off a piece of waffle, then dip it in the syrup before brushing it across her lips. She waits, knowing exactly what I’m going to do. The girl can read me like no one else. She edges closer, and I bite the waffle, then lick across her lips. “Delicious,” I say around a mouthful.
She laughs. “I like this.”
“What?” I ask, reaching for another waffle piece and feeding her.
“Lazy Sunday mornings with you.” She lets out a happy sigh. “Just being with you in general. Tell me about her, baby,” she whispers.
My mom.
I tilt back, but Cat pulls at my hand, keeping me close. Then she reaches for a piece of bacon and tears it apart, offering me a bite before she takes her own.
“I don’t have beautiful memories of my mother like you do, Cat. I’m not even sure my mother cared for me.”
“I find that impossible to believe,” she whispers.
“Why?” The question is practically a plea. I can’t hide the broken desperation that seeps through.
“Because I love you so deeply, and I tried so hard not to. You’re easy to love, Jay. Incredibly easy to love.”
She rubs the pad of her thumb along my cheek, wiping at a dampness I hadn’t realized was there. Embarrassed that I’ve let a tear escape, I duck my head.
She doesn’t allow it, though, pulling me back to look at her. “I think…” She pauses and holds my gaze. “I think it’s impossible to know what our mothers were really like. But Jay, I know for a fact that if she took the time to get to know you, she loved you. Even if she struggled to say it.”
I get lost in her eyes, the way the sun makes them sparkle and how a kaleidoscope of colors appears. “Thank you,” I whisper.
She smiles. “For what?”
“Before you, my life had very little meaning. I was frozen. My heart, I…” I struggle to put into words what she’s done for me. The way she’s brought me back to life. “Just know, Catherine, that every day in this life, I will choose you. Don’t ever doubt that. Only you.”
48
JUST GOT STARTED LOVING YOU BY JAMES OTTO
CAT
As much as I want to spend the entire day in bed with Jay, there’s somewhere I have to be tonight, and he can’t come. Since I can remember, my grandparents took my brothers and me out for hibachi for our birthday. It’s our thing.
I’m not sure when precisely it started, but it was sometime after my mother’s death. Carter’s was the first birthday we spent there. He took her death incredibly hard. He was nine when he watched her get sick, watched her deteriorate. Memories like that don’t leave a person. I vividly remember my mother’s laugh—soft. And her scent—sugar and cinnamon with a hint of lemon. Why I have no idea. And dance parties in the kitchen when it was just the four of us, Carter by my side, Cash in my mother’s arms, and my mom spinning me in circles like I was a ballerina.
But I don’t remember losing her. Maybe my brain blocked it out. Or maybe she hid how sick she was from me, and Carter just saw more of it.
Without her, Carter barely spoke, and a birthday party was the last thing he wanted. So our grandparents took us out for hibachi, and when the chef took out the water bottle that looks like a man peeing and aimed it at Carter’s face, he burst out laughing. It was the first time I remember hearing his laughter after her death.
After that, our grandparents took us there for each of our birthdays. It’s a tradition we’ve kept up to this day.
So I’m not surprised when I walk into the restaurant at the agreed-upon time and spot all of my brothers at the table with my grandparents. Frank is with Cash, of course, because he’s his shadow, but the unexpected additional guest has my mouth falling open.
“Happy birthday, Kit Cat,” Cash says, standing and wrapping me in a hug before I can react to my boyfriend’s presence at my birthday dinner. Suspiciously, the seat between him and Frank is unoccupied.
I offer hugs and kisses to everyone and am treated to more birthday wishes before settling in the chosen seat. “Hey,” I say, my gaze turning to Jay.
He smirks. “Happy birthday, Kitten,” he mouths.
Squirming under his gaze, I scan the table to make sure no one’s watching. But, as usual, Cash is delighting them all with a story, so I have nothing to worry about. “Surprised to see you here,” I murmur.
. “It’s Jay’s birthday too,” Carter says, hearing my comment despite my attempt at discretion, “and since he didn’t have plans, I told him to join us.” He studies us, as if he’s on to us. Or maybe that’s just my imagination. My guilt. This is his best friend.
“It-it’s your birthday?” I ask as my brain catches up to my mouth.
