by Kim Law
She grew quiet, thinking, and they passed several streets before Zack turned onto a dead-end road. The neighborhood was nice. There was a social building in the center of things, well-maintained sidewalks throughout—with the occasional bench tossed in for those who needed to stop and catch their breaths—and the whole thing was gated. All the houses were single story and brick.
And high class.
“It’s nice,” she said.
“Mom missed the house a lot at first, but she really does like it here. She’s made a number of friends. They keep her busier than she would have been at the house by herself.”
“So she just sold it?”
His dark eyes glanced at her before he admitted, “I bought it.”
Holly’s jaw dropped.
“But I thought you lived in some ritzy penthouse?” That’s what Cody and Nick had told her.
“I do. I’ve lived there for several years.”
“Then why did you buy the house?”
He shrugged. “Just figured . . . I don’t know. Maybe I’ll want it someday.”
He pulled into the driveway of one of the larger homes, but didn’t turn off the car. Her heart thumped. He had a house. In case he wanted it someday. She stared at him. He was even less of a hard-ass than she’d given him credit for.
“It has a waterfall that Dad built for Mom there,” he tacked on as if she’d asked him to explain himself. All she’d done was look at him. Which she was still doing. She smiled a little. He stared straight ahead, but she knew he could see her. So she smiled some more. He sighed. “Okay, fine,” he grumbled. “I have a soft spot for the house I grew up in. Satisfied? We had a lot of memories there, and I wasn’t ready to part with them yet.”
Holly nodded. “I knew you were a softie when I first met you.”
Of course, that was a total lie.
“Will you just forget it? I don’t even live there.”
“Does anybody?”
He shook his head. “I have it cleaned on a regular basis, and pay someone for upkeep.” He paused before adding, “And I take Mom to visit a couple times a month.”
Oh my god, he was killing her.
Too bad he had such issues with commitment. He would make someone a good husband someday.
“Why are you so against marriage?” she blurted out. “Family?”
His gaze shot to hers. It was a ballsy question. But one she wanted the answer to. Not so much because she wanted him to want her—though that wasn’t so out of the question either—but because the more she got to know him, the more who he was didn’t match who he claimed to be.
“I’m the job,” he explained. “That’s what’s important to me.”
“Your childhood home is important to you.”
His knuckles whitened where he still had hold of the steering wheel. “Memories,” he said. “You live in your childhood home. Surely you can understand the idea of that suddenly being gone. Out of your reach.”
She slowly nodded. Yeah, she could understand. But it wasn’t simply the memories that would disappear for her. It would be the idea of a home. A family. That’s where the magic of her life happened.
“You didn’t answer the question,” she pointed out. “Why are you against marriage?”
His thumb tapped on the steering wheel for a good fifteen seconds.
“I have things I want to prove,” he finally admitted. He didn’t look at her as he spoke, and his words didn’t come out hard. They were honest. “Success,” he added. “Worth.” He glanced at her and she saw a hint of the little boy he’d once been. “I want to make my mom proud.”
A lump lodged in her throat.
She didn’t point out that his happiness and his mother having grandchildren would quite possibly make the woman proud. Maybe she was off on her thinking. Maybe his mother was all about seeing him at the top of his game.
But she didn’t think so.
She also didn’t think he was going to give her anything else.
Turning to look at the house in front of them now, she took in the sprawling structure. “Is it just her living here?”
“Yeah.” The word was dry with sarcasm. “She might have been okay to move, but she was not ready to give up her space. We had a large house. She refused to be stuck in what she called a ‘box.’ ”
Holly liked her already. She wouldn’t want to be stuck in a box either.
Though none of the houses they’d passed would Holly ever consider to be a box.
They got out and headed to the front door together, but it opened before they got to it. A lovely older lady with a stylish dark bob and kelly-green rimmed glasses stood there in greeting.
Zack had told Holly that his mom was seventy-five, and though her skin might have lost enough elasticity to look her age, she didn’t carry herself that way. She was elegant. And she had class. Holly supposed that came from being a doctor’s wife for fifty years.
“Holly.” His mother said her name with such warmth that it caught Holly off guard. “When Zack told me that he was bringing you, I was thrilled. I’ve got a room all fixed up for you. I hope you’ll love it. And I made you my chocolate cake.” She took Holly’s hands in hers, diamonds twinkling off three fingers, and squeezed. “You do like chocolate cake, don’t you, dear?”
Holly nodded, laughing a little, and glanced at Zack. Did he not tell her that they weren’t staying overnight? This was a day trip. “I wouldn’t want to go through life not liking chocolate cake, Mrs. Winston. Thank you so much for having me.”
“Ah.” Mrs. Winston patted Holly on the cheek. “Such a sweet girl. Good manners and everything.”
“Mom,” Zack said in a warning tone.
His mother ignored him. “Call me Janet, dear. And I told Zackie you were the one for him. I knew it without even meeting you.”
Holly’s eyes went wide. The one for him?
Zack stepped in between them and took his mother’s hand from Holly’s. “That’s enough. I told you she’s just a friend. A good one.”
He looked back at Holly as if to make sure she was okay, and she felt cared about. Truly. Not in a man-woman kind of way, but in friendship. She saw it in his eyes, and she knew that they did have something special. Even if they had kissed and almost ruined it.
Plus, he liked her mirrors. She’d seen that when she’d taken him to her house. He really had been impressed with them.
That had meant so much more to her than she’d known it would. So had showing him her work in the first place. She’d wanted to know what he thought.
“Your dad and I were friends too,” his mother informed her son as they all made their way into the front room of the house. Holly noticed that the color of Janet’s shoes perfectly matched her glasses. As did the scarf tied loosely around her neck. “Made the boring years after you left better,” Janet added. She looked back at Holly and winked. “Trust me. Better.”
Holly couldn’t help it. She laughed. This woman was the perfect person to be Zack’s mother. Holly could just imagine her keeping him on his toes when he was little. Probably still did.
“I just love your shoes, by the way.” Janet had stepped away from Zack and was now peering down at Holly’s feet. “What size are they? Do you think they’ll fit me?”
Holly knew she was going to love this woman. She stuck out one toe of her pink-and-black zigzag-patterned pumps. She’d toned down her style today. She had on cream slacks and a bright amethyst blouse. The shoes didn’t even clash with her top. And she’d worn enough makeup to look her age, but nothing at all outrageous.
Her hair was secured in a large barrette at the base of her skull. She looked sophisticated.
Zack hadn’t commented, so she’d assumed he’d approved.
“Mom,” Zack butted in before Holly could slip off a shoe and pass it over. “You are not trying on Hol
ly’s shoes. You’ll fall and break your neck.”
“I don’t need a man to tell me what shoes I can wear, dear. I’ve walked in heels much taller than those. Plenty of times.”
“When was the last time?” he demanded.
His question made his mother give him an evil look, and Holly burst out laughing again.
Both of them turned to her. “What?” they asked in unison.
Holly motioned back and forth between them. “You have your mother’s mean look. That’s the scary look you keep trying on me. The one I think is cute.”
His mother smiled with a mix of pride and fondness. “It is cute on him, isn’t it?” Janet said. “Poor thing, he just can’t pull it off.”
Zack shook his head as if disgusted with both of them. “You two are made for each other.” He turned and headed into the other room. “I’m going for the food. I’m starving.”
Chapter Seventeen
With the meal finished, and her stomach more than full, Holly leaned back in her chair and eyed the piece of chocolate cake sitting on a plate in front of her. She’d forgotten to save room for dessert. No wonder Zack always came to his mom’s for Sunday lunch. The woman was a terrific cook.
“Don’t feel you have to eat that right now,” Janet said, as if she could read her mind. “I just put it out in case you wanted it. You can always eat it later. We’ve got nowhere to be.”
Again, Holly was reminded that Zack’s mother thought they were spending the night. He must not have told her his plans had changed. He’d tried once again to convince Holly to bring her mirrors with them before they’d headed out that morning, but she’d steadfastly refused. She wasn’t ready yet. Chicago had broken her spirit more than she’d realized.
She looked across the table to Zack, who wore a look of satisfaction with the meal that had to be close to what was on her own face. He also seemed to be happy.
Really, truly happy.
She’d seen him smile plenty of times over the last two weeks, and she’d seen him having a good time. But she wasn’t sure she’d ever witnessed the contentment on his face that she did now.
It was heartwarming.
But still, the man had to tell his mother that they weren’t staying.
She kicked his shin under the table to get his attention.
“Ow.” He sat up straight in his seat and shot her his scary look. She gave him a bored look back. Then she nodded her head toward his mom. “What?” he mouthed.
He must have replayed his mother’s words in his mind because his eyes registered recognition. He faced his mother.
“I forgot to tell you, Mom, we won’t be staying overnight after all. We can head back once the food settles.”
“No, we can’t.” Janet shook her head and rose to clear the dishes. “I have to feed Mr. Dancer’s cat tonight. I told him I would.”
Holly jumped to her feet to help clear the table, and shot Zack a hard look. She didn’t want to spend the night in his mom’s house. That was too . . . personal. He made a face back at her.
“Can’t we just feed him before we leave?” he raised his voice to be heard because his mother had disappeared into the kitchen already. Holly hurried in after her. They dumped the dishes, and headed back out.
“It’s a her. Not a him,” Janet explained, “and no, we can’t just feed her before we leave. She eats at seven-thirty.”
“She can eat at four.”
“I won’t do it. If she doesn’t get her canned food at exactly seven-thirty, then she lets her irritation be known by leaving him a present on his bed.” Janet shook her head. “I won’t be the reason Mr. Dancer comes home from his great-granddaughter’s first dance recital to find cat poop on his pillow. Plus, I already have Holly’s room all made up.”
“But she didn’t bring clothes, Mom. Neither of us did. We need to go back tonight.”
Janet gave an unconcerned shrug. “Then you can come back and get me tomorrow.”
“Or I can leave you down here,” he grumbled. “Forget Sugar Springs. You probably wouldn’t like it anyway.”
She turned to Holly. “I hope he’s not this rude to your mother at her house, dear. I did teach him better manners. It was the lasagna. A thing to note for future reference. Pasta makes him grumpy.”
Holly started to smile, then flattened the line of her mouth when she saw Zack’s scowl.
“Mother,” he said pointedly. As if the single word would control the situation.
It didn’t.
“And I explained all of this to him on the phone,” she continued to Holly. “He simply thinks he can always get his way. I don’t know why. He hasn’t gotten his way around me in thirty-three years. Except for that one time in the middle of his father’s office party. I will admit, he did get his way that time. He was two.” She made a face as if remembering a nasty event. “He had quite the temper.”
“Mother,” he tried again.
“I apologize that he didn’t make the situation about today clear, but I would love if you’d reconsider and stay. There’s a mall just fifteen minutes from here. I’m sure Zackie would be more than happy to buy you anything you need.” She cut shrewd eyes to her son. “Since this is his fault.”
The two Winstons had a stare-off, and Holly enjoyed the show. Looked like “Zackie” had learned his stubbornness from the best.
She was rooting for Mrs. Winston to win. Zack should have warned Holly that they would have to stay. He should have listened to his mother.
And though staying at his mom’s house overnight did not make her completely comfortable, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t do it. She’d been working at the diner in the mornings, but not because she was needed so much as because she’d missed the people.
They still had the cook who’d replaced her, so there was no real need to hurry back.
Plus, she was enjoying watching mother and son interact. She could hardly wait to see how they did together in Sugar Springs.
Zack blinked first and Janet won the stare-off, and Holly made up her mind.
“That would give me time to enjoy my cake later, Janet. When I’m not so full. Thank you for the kind offer.” She turned to Zack. “I’ll be ready to go to the mall in fifteen minutes.”
At seven forty-five that evening, they were back on the road. Only, they weren’t heading to Sugar Springs. Zack had taken Holly shopping at the nearby mall, they’d all had an afternoon snack of cake—the rest of which was now securely packed up in the backseat—his mother had embarrassed him by dragging out photo albums, and Mr. Dancer’s cat had been fed.
Then his mom had announced that she’d prefer to sleep in her old room before going to Sugar Springs. If Zack didn’t mind.
At first he’d minded. A lot.
He hadn’t had a woman at the house in ten years.
Plus, he knew what his mother was up to. Hadn’t she already told Holly that she was perfect for him? He cringed at the memory of that. His mother had definitely butted in where she wasn’t needed.
But then he’d seen the excitement in Holly’s eyes at the idea of going to his house, and he’d been unable to say no. What guy wouldn’t want to put that kind of look on a woman’s face?
So off they’d gone. All packed into her SUV, and they were now approaching the home that held his life.
And he was having trouble not wanting her to be impressed.
The house sat in a suburb north of the city, and he couldn’t help but glance at the passenger seat as they passed through the area. He hadn’t grown up poor, that was for sure. If Holly had any doubts about that before, it would clear be now. The houses in this area were huge, the yards expansive, and the neighborhoods gated.
She wasn’t saying a word, but her green eyes were taking everything in.
He found himself nervous as he waited to hear her opinion. It wasn’t just the house
that he’d grown up in. It was his house now. Not that he’d given thought to living there. Not consciously anyway. But the mere fact he’d kept it had to say something.
He didn’t want to grow old alone.
Okay, yeah. He could admit that.
The thought of growing old alone bothered him. But he didn’t know what that meant. Should he get a dog? Hire a live-in maid?
Or would he someday want to take a step back and reevaluate his life?
Holly turned her head to look at him, and gave him a soft smile. And an internal voice whispered, “Reevaluate.”
When he finally made a turn into his neighborhood and slowed in front of the house, he watched her jaw go slack. The house was enormous.
“Is that three garages?” she asked.
Two four-car, and one two-car, to be exact.
“Dad liked cars,” Zack replied. And then he felt pretentious. He’d never felt that way growing up because everyone in his school had been the same. But for an outsider, it must look like a lot.
“We also used to have two boats.” His mother spoke up from the backseat as Zack turned into the long driveway. “At one point we had the two cars that Randolph and I drove every day, the two boats, Zackie’s car,”—he cringed at the long-ago nickname—“and two classics. A 1936 DeSoto and a 1951 Chevy coupe. Oh, and the other car. The—”
“I’m sure Holly doesn’t want to hear about Dad’s hobbies, Mom.” He glanced up in the mirror, trying to catch his mother’s eye, but she ignored him. As usual.
“Sure I do.” Holly turned to the backseat. His mother sat buckled tight in the middle of the bench seat. She had on her green coat, the one that matched her green glasses and green shoes, and Zack couldn’t help the smile as he compared the two women. They both had their eccentricities, that was for sure. “I’d love to hear all about it,” Holly told her now.
He didn’t want his mother telling her about the car.
He reached the attached garage and shifted into park, stomping on the brake a little too hard and causing both women to jostle in their seats. “Let’s get Mom inside.”
