Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I gaped at her. She’d mentioned Josh.
“I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Lottie,” she said, her lips pursed into a frown. “So many.” She sat up a little straighter. “I’ve been going to therapy for the past few weeks.”
I was speechless. I recalled the instances I thought she looked as if she were about to confide something to me. The way her gaze seemed different. The few times she’d brought up Josh’s name. I stuttered, finding my words. “Mom, that…that’s great.”
“I have a lot to atone for.”
Logan came in, carrying a tray. I bit back my laughter as he set it down in front of us. Two mugs of tea, neither in her preferred china, milk in both since he knew that was how I liked it, and a plate of store-bought cookies. Five of them arranged in a perfect circle on the small plate. “Ladies,” he intoned. “I’ll leave you to it.”
I glanced at him, and he brushed my cheek with his fingers. “I’ll be in the other room, writing. Right there, if you need me.”
My mother watched him walk away and turned to me. “Very protective of you, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at the tray, and I was surprised to see a smile tug on her lips. Then she shocked me yet again by picking up the mug and taking a sip. She grimaced a little. “Other than the sugar, not a bad cup of tea.” She tapped the tray. “Better effort than your father could manage.”
Once again, her words caught me off guard.
“Dad used to bring you tea in bed.”
“Dad used to do a lot of things. So did I.” She took a sip of her tea, not mentioning the awkward mug it was in. “Then I lost myself. Allowed your father to drift away on his own island of guilt. We became two polite strangers dwelling under the same roof.” She met my astonished gaze. “We became two grieving people locked in the past, unable to talk, move forward, or break the cycle. And the worst part of it is, we left you alone.”
My voice cracked. “Mom.”
She held up her hand. “I cannot go back. I cannot change things. But I can move forward. I can ask you to give me a chance. To let me be a small part of your life.” Her gaze drifted lower. “To be part of your child’s life in some way.” She paused. “To be a real part of your life in some way.”
My breath caught, and I stared at her. My heart sped up, my breathing becoming faster. They were words I had longed to hear and given up on doing so. I had to blink away the moisture building in my eyes. She kept talking.
“I know I can’t ask for your forgiveness until I deserve it. I also know you may never grant it. But I am asking for that chance to earn it.”
“I want that.” I managed to choke out. “But Dad—”
She held up her hand. “No, this is you and me. I’m not going to ask on his behalf. He has to do that.”
“I can’t work for him anymore.”
“I know. He told me you quit.” She picked up a cookie, studying it as if it were a science experiment, then took a bite, chewing it slowly. “That was a job Josh would have loved. From the time he was a toddler, he sat on your father’s lap, absorbing everything. He was destined to work with your father, not you, Lottie.” She put the cookie back on the plate and set down her mug. “Logan said some things to your father.” She clasped my hands between hers, her touch evoking memories from my childhood. Ones I had missed so much. “You were not responsible for his death. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You didn’t fail, Lottie. The illness was too aggressive. On top of everything else I have to atone for, allowing you to think that I thought you were anything but brave and wonderful to try to help your brother is my biggest sin. That, I will never atone for.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “Never.”
I watched the tear flow over her skin, quiver on her jaw, and drop to her knee. Her lips trembled, and I saw how she was struggling to hold in her emotions. I flipped over my hands and held hers tight.
“I want my child to know his or her grandmother,” I stated simply. “I would like to get to know my mother.”
“I want that as well.”
I held up one hand. “There are rules. I am going to live my life for me now. You have to accept my decisions.”
“Of course.”
“You need to let Dad and me work things out—or not.”
She pursed her lips but tilted her head in agreement.
“Logan asked me to marry him. I said yes. He is a huge part of my life now, and I demand he be given the respect he deserves as our child’s father and my husband. He might not be what you envisioned for me, but he is everything I wanted and then some. I consider myself the luckiest woman in the world.”