Making the First Move

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Making the First Move Page 28

by Reese Ryan


  “You know?”

  My mother nods, avoiding my eyes. She goes to the cupboard and takes out her favorite wooden cutting board, worn with age. She takes a crown of broccoli from the sink, places it on the cutting board and begins slicing florets.

  I follow her to the sink and watch her in silence. My arms folded as I lean against the counter. “Mom?” I say, finally.

  She sighs and puts the knife down, wiping her hands on her apron. “Okay, okay. But first promise you won’t be angry with me.”

  I weigh this contingency. “Okay, fine.”

  “You also have to promise not to be angry with the person who told me.” She places her hands on my shoulders.

  I don’t know if I can promise that. I’m already steamed and I don’t know what my mother knows or who told her. But my money is on Mimi. She can never resist Mom. Jamie’s like a hardened KGB spy. She’ll take my secrets to her grave.

  “Melanie, you have to promise.”

  I consider crossing my fingers behind my back, but I don’t think that rule applies if you’re older than ten. “Okay, fine. I won’t be angry with you or the person who told you. Now tell me what you know.”

  “Maybe we should sit down again.” She extends her hand toward the table.

  “I don’t want to sit down. I just want to know what you’re talking about. Please.”

  She picks up the butcher knife and resumes her food prep. “I had a visitor last night.”

  “Let me guess...Mimi ran over here the second I got off the phone with her.” My hands fly through the air as I speak. “I can’t believe her.”

  “It wasn’t your sister. It was Raine.”

  I shake my head to clear the cobwebs that must be blocking my ear canal. “Who?”

  “You heard me.” She stops to look at me. “Raine came here after you two had dinner last night.”

  My head is spinning. The room is stifling hot. But then again, there are two ovens and a couple of burners blazing. I make my way over to a chair and sit down, wiping the perspiration droplets that have formed over my brow. “Raine came to see you last night? Why?”

  My mother puts the knife down and joins me at the table. She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “Raine loves you. He wants to be part of your life. Part of our lives. Regardless of what happens between you, he doesn’t want any more secrets.”

  What right does he have to come over here and talk to my mother about this when I’d decided not to tell her?

  Still, another part of me admires his courage and commitment to being open and honest. I put my elbow on the table, resting my forehead in my palm.

  “Raine’s a sweet boy. No, he isn’t without fault. He’s made some terrible mistakes in his life. But we all have. What he is, is a decent man, a good man. A man who’s spent every day since that tragic night trying to make amends.”

  “I can’t believe he told you everything. Why would he do that?”

  “He wants to start a new life with you. God bless him, he hopes to one day be part of this family, sitting at that table every single Sunday.” She points emphatically toward the dining room and the sixty-year-old table we’ve been sharing meals at for as long as I can remember.

  Silent tears slide down my cheeks. I bury my face in my hands.

  My mother gets up and puts her arms around me from behind. She kisses my head. “I know this is disappointing. You thought you’d found your fairy-tale prince and he’s got this deep, dark past. But honey, no one’s perfect.”

  “I know, Mom, I know.” I manage the words through my tears. “But did it have to be such an awful past? I can deal with the fact that he’s a Montgomery, but I keep thinking about that girl. She isn’t coming back. Ever. He can’t make that right.”

  “He knows that, Melanie. He thinks about her and what he’s done every single day. It haunts him, even in his dreams. I hope he can forgive himself someday. Maybe a little forgiveness from the woman he adores would help him along that path.” There’s a slight lilt in her voice.

  “You think so?” I wipe my face with the back of my hand.

  “I know so, darling.” My mother takes her apron off and wipes my face with it. “I’ve seen the power of love and forgiveness for myself. So have you.” She gently taps her index finger on my nose, the way my dad did when I was little. I sigh deeply and smile.

  Sniffling, I try to clear a path to breathe through my clogged sinuses. My mother reaches for a box of tissues on the little work desk my father built for her in the kitchen. She pulls three tissues out of the box and hands them to me.

  “Blow.”

  I blow my nose loudly. Now my nasal passages are throbbing, but at least I can breathe. “Raine, he really does love me, doesn’t he?”

  A wide smile spreads across my mother’s face. “You’d better believe it, toots. This guy’s got it bad.”

  “Or maybe he’s just a little crazy.” I smile.

  “He’d have to be to mess with one of my babies and then come up here and sit at my table.” My mother kisses me on the cheek. She opens the back door to a little mudroom and tosses the dirty apron there before washing her hands in the sink.

  “Mom?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  “Sorry I didn’t tell you about Raine. I don’t know why I was afraid to tell you.”

  “I do. You love him. You might not be ready to admit it, but you do. Maybe you imagined him being part of our family one day, too. You didn’t want this to change the way I feel about him. Sound about right?”

  “He’s the first guy I’ve dated who you genuinely like,” I tell her. “I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to forgive him. I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay, honey. Just remember, it doesn’t matter how I feel about Raine. It only matters how you feel about him.”

  “I do care for him, but I’m scared. I can’t go through what I went through with Jax again. I can’t.”

  My mother nods. “It was a traumatic period for all of us. You lost Jaxson, and we lost you. None of us wants that, believe me.” Her jaw tightens. There’s a flash of anger in her eyes.

  “You didn’t lose me,” I insist. “I just needed some space, to be alone for a while.”

  “For five years?” The hurt mars her face like a fresh wound.

  For the first time I see things from my mother’s perspective. Jaxson rejected me. I rejected them. Not intentionally, but I did just the same. Maybe I withdrew from my family because they’d been right about him all along. I felt foolish and embarrassed. How could I not have known? Why didn’t I listen?

  “I didn’t move away to hurt you, Mom,” I say. “I wanted...I needed a fresh start. I never intended to push you guys away and I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too. The more you pulled away, the harder I pushed you. You were consumed by your work, afraid to let anyone in. Trying to deal with your father’s death and a devastating breakup. We were so worried about you.” Mom sucks in a deep breath and closes her eyes for an instant. “I thought you were chasing an impossible dream, hiding from life. But you stuck to your guns, and look where it’s gotten you. You’ve climbed the ladder in your career and found an incredible man who makes you happier than I’ve seen you in years. Don’t let a mistake he made a million years ago interfere with your happiness.”

  “I won’t. Promise.”

  “I’m so proud of you,” she says, “but I always have been.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Raine pulls in the driveway in his rental car. I put on my coat and boots and hurry outside.

  He’s making his way up the walk when he sees me barreling toward him. He pauses, looking slightly uneasy.

  I put my arms around him and bury my face in his chest. “I love you, too,” I tell him.

  “Y
ou sure this isn’t just pity?”

  I shake my head vehemently. “Positive. Love can make a girl a little crazy, especially when she’s not used to feeling this way.” I fiddle with the buttons of his navy blue peacoat. “I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before.”

  “I do.” Sadness creeps into his voice. “You were afraid I’d disappoint you, and I did. I’m sorry, babe. I wish I’d handled this better.”

  “We both could’ve handled things better,” I concede. “But the only thing that matters now is how we feel about each other and what we want from this relationship.”

  Raine leans his forehead against mine. “I know exactly what I want from this relationship.” He smiles like an impish child. “But perhaps we should discuss that later.”

  One corner of my mouth turns up in a reserved smile. His smile deepens and he presses his lips against mine. We kiss again. And again. Each time lingering a bit longer. I’m seriously considering ditching dinner so Raine and I can spend the rest of the day holed up at my place. In bed.

  My mother, who seems to have a radar in her head that alerts her whenever I’m getting a little lip action, hasn’t lost her touch. She opens the front door. “There’ll be plenty of time for that after dinner, you two. Now get in here before you both freeze to death.”

  “Yes, Ellie.” Raine wipes traces of my lip gloss from his mouth. “We’ll be right there.”

  “Don’t bother wiping away the evidence,” Mom teases him as he leans down to kiss her on the cheek. “We’ve all seen the show from the picture window.”

  My nephews practically fall to the floor giggling. Mimi, Jamie, Marcus and Miles are laughing, too.

  “Ha, ha, ha.” I feign annoyance. “Isn’t there anything more interesting on television?”

  “Yeah, but Mommy doesn’t let us watch the kissing,” Mickey says. Both the boys fall into a fit of giggles again.

  “That’s enough, boys.” Mimi tries to hide a grin. “Leave Aunt Melanie and Uncle Raine alone.”

  Raine and I exchange glances. His cheeks flush. He smiles at my sister then crosses the room to hug her. She squeezes him tightly.

  “I’m glad you made it.” Jamie hugs Raine next. My mom, Mimi and I exchange looks. Jamie’s offering a hug to someone who doesn’t live in our house and whom she doesn’t plan on sleeping with? Our little girl is growing up.

  Raine hugs her back, a big smile on his face. He knows enough about Jamie to realize this is a special honor. “It’s great to see you again, Jamie.” He smiles broadly.

  Raine greets Marcus and Miles. Then he scoops up each of my nephews and gives them a big hug. Mickey and Dusty excitedly recount the details of our recent outing at the basketball game. They beg Raine to take them to see the Browns.

  He tousles their hair and tells them he’ll see what he can do about Browns tickets.

  “Dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes,” Mom announces as she straightens her watch, a gift from my father ages ago. “Why don’t you boys head into the family room and watch the game. Girls, help me get a few last-minute things ready for dinner.”

  Mom returns to the kitchen. As we shuffle to our respective assignments, the doorbell rings. I answer the door.

  Walter stands at the front door in a lumberjack hat and army green parka. His handsome face barely peeks through. He smells of Bengay and Old Spice. “Hello, Melanie. It’s good to see you again.” His broad smile makes him even more handsome. His dark eyes dance.

  “Hello, Walter.” I return his smile. “I’m glad you could join us for dinner. Please, come in.”

  Walter exhales and his smile deepens. He nods and follows me into the house. “Thank you.”

  I take his coat and boots. He selects a pair of house shoes. It’s a pair I don’t recognize. My mother probably bought them for him.

  “The guys are in the family room watching the game.” I indicate the room where Raine, Marcus, Miles and the boys are yelling at the Browns quarterback.

  “Thanks.” He looks a little wary.

  “Why don’t I reintroduce you to everyone?”

  He lets out a little sigh. “I’d appreciate that.”

  I smile and take him to see my sisters first. Mimi hugs him. Jamie shakes his hand. Then I take him to settle in with the guys. The boys grab him by the hand and begin telling him about all of their friends from school. He seems comfortable with my nephews. I wonder if he has grandchildren of his own.

  Marcus offers him a beer. Walter declines but seems relieved by this show of hospitality.

  “I see you’re in good hands,” I tell Walter. Then I head back to the kitchen to let my mother know that her guest, our guest, is here.

  “So tell me, what do you think of Walter?”

  “He seems sweet,” I say carefully. “But I haven’t really had a chance to get to know him.”

  She sighs. “I know. That’s my fault. I was afraid to tell you about my relationship with Walter, so it was uncomfortable having him here for dinner. But he’s been begging me to invite him again for months.”

  “He’s a brave man. He gets extra points for that.”

  “Yes, I suppose he should. He’s been so patient and understanding. Every step of the way he’s allowed me the time I needed. He’s different from most of the guys at the senior center.” Mom carefully arranges baby potatoes and carrots around her legendary pot roast on a large silver platter.

  “What’re you saying, Mom? The senior center is a den of horny old men just itching to get into everyone’s granny pants?” I try to hide a smirk as I grab a baby carrot from the platter and nibble.

  As I reach for another, my mother smacks my hand, gently, just as she did when I tried to swipe icing as a kid.

  “You have no idea how closely the senior center resembles high school,” she says. “There are a couple of fellas who’ve just about made their way through every woman at the center—present company excluded, of course.”

  I stare at her, my mouth hanging open.

  “They give out condoms like lollipops,” my mother whispers. “The stories I could tell. You wouldn’t believe it.”

  “That’s okay.” I put my hands up. “I’ll take your word for it. The point is, Walter seems like a good guy. I trust your judgment and I look forward to getting to know him.”

  “Good.” Mom picks up the silver tray and uses her backside to bump the door open. She puts the tray on the table and calls everyone to dinner.

  We quickly fill in around the table. Walter, a straggler, approaches the table cautiously. He makes his way toward the empty seat beside my mother, but I grab him by the elbow.

  “Walter, why don’t you sit here?” I pull out the chair at the head of the table—the seat we’ve left empty for the past six years.

  Walter looks at me then at my mother, who now has tears in her eyes. “Here? At the head of the table? Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

  Mom probably warned him not to sit there. I’m sure she thought I’d have a nuclear meltdown. Before our talk earlier, I probably would have. But I feel differently now. Walter isn’t here to take my father’s place. He’s the beginning of a new Chapter in our family history. One I hope will bring my mother immense joy for years to come.

  “Very sure. Sit. Please.”

  He pats me gently on the arm. “Thank you, Melanie.”

  Walter takes his seat, and I take mine beside Raine. I look around the table at my family. I’m so grateful for everyone at this table. Even Marcus.

  “Don’t anyone have a heart attack or anything.” My mother laughs nervously and dabs at her eyes with a dinner napkin. “But I thought it would be nice if we said grace today.”

  “Like at Thanksgiving?” Dusty asks.

  “Yes, like at Thanksgiving.” Mom smiles. “Because we have an awful lot to be than
kful for.”

  “Like what?” Dusty inquires.

  “For the food, silly!” Mickey exclaims. “My teacher says there are little kids all over the world who don’t get to eat every day like we do.”

  “That’s true, Mickey,” Mimi says. “We should be very grateful for what we have.”

  “And for who we have,” my mother adds. “There are some pretty amazing people at this table. I’m grateful each and every one of you is part of my life.”

  We might not be perfect, but we’re family and we love each other.

  “Who’s gonna say the grace?” Mickey inquires.

  “I think we should ask our guest, Mr. Walter, to say grace for the family.” Mom nods in Walter’s direction. His face belies a mixture of pride and surprise.

  He nods and bows his head.

  “Wait! First we have to hold hands!” Dusty says.

  “Goodness gracious, you’re right!” Mom slaps her palm against her cheek. “You stopped us just in the nick of time.”

  Dusty nods his head proudly and grabs his brother’s hand on one side and his father’s on the other. We make a chain of hands that travels around our dining table, yet stretches an emotional decade. I hold Raine’s hand on one side and Walter’s on the other. Now we’re ready.

  Walter bows his head and we all follow suit. He says a simple, heartfelt prayer expressing gratitude for the food, family and good friends.

  Once our plates and our glasses are filled, the adults’ with Pink Catawba from a local winery, the kids’ with apple juice, my mother lifts her glass and proposes a toast.

  “To perfect love and imperfect people.”

  “To perfect love and imperfect people,” we all echo. Then we clink our glasses together and enjoy our family dinner.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Dinner seemed to last forever. All I could think of was getting Raine back to my apartment. In fact, there was a moment when I wondered if I could get away with sneaking off to the basement and making out in the laundry room.

  Raine left dinner early. He had a business meeting, but we agreed to meet at his hotel room later.

 

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