“Howare you doing?” he asked, always checking up on me.
Iopened my mouth, startled by the strength of my emotion. I composed myself byclearing my throat and I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I replied honestly.
“Well,I think you’re doing great, and I’m proud of you,” he said encouragingly, and Isqueezed my hand around his, wishing I could be prouder of myself.
?
“Howlong have you lived here?” Richard asked, sitting down and draping a papernapkin across his lap.
“Me,only a few years, but Kylie’s been here for about ten years now,” Dev said,pulling out my chair before sitting himself.
“Well,I love it,” Richard said with a nod. “A lot nicer than the city—that’s where Ilive half the time.”
“Whatcity?” Devin asked, folding his arms on the table.
“NewYork.”
Devin’sinterest piqued. “You live in New York City?”
“HasGrace told you guysanythingabout me?” Richard asked with a gentlechuckle, glancing at my mother.
Sheblushed, wrapping her arm around his and leaning into his shoulder. “I guess Imight’ve been too distracted telling them how wonderful you are.”
Theconversation was interrupted by the waiter, and after Devin insisted they werethe best thing they served, burgers were ordered around the table.
“Nexttime we get together, you two should come out to the city,” Richard mentionedwith a smile. “I’ll take you to the best pizza place I know, and are you a fanof cheesecake?”
Ifound myself returning the smile. “There’s not much that Devin won’t eat,” Isaid, nudging him with my elbow.
“That’strue,” he conceded.
Ourtable chatter continued over burgers and glasses of iced tea. I found myselfrelaxing, laughing and enjoying the company of Richard, this mysterious manwith his arm around my mother’s shoulders. It was hard not to, when his laughfelt like a hug. When my mom’s eyes sparkled as she looked at him.
But,in between all the laughs and animated conversation, I couldn’t help staringout the window, as I felt the past I held onto slipping through my fingers.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Devin
Sensing she needed it,I concluded the nightwith Kylie’s favorite song. I surprised her by plucking a daisy from my guitarcase, jumping from the stage to hand it to her. She smiled up at me as thesmall crowd applauded, and fucking hell, I wanted to kiss her.
Ineededto kiss her.
Igrabbed her hand and pulled her up to me. I held her against my body as Ipushed my mouth to hers, and when I laid my hand against her cheek, I felt thewetness of her tears.
“Hey,”I said, pulling back, oblivious to everybody around us. “Hey, Kylie, what’sup?”
Sheshook her head, covering her eyes with her hand. “I’m fine, really.”
“Baby,you’re not fine,” I said, catching another tear.
Noticingher daughter’s tears, Grace stood up and rounded to stand next to us. “Kylie,what’s the matter?”
“Nothing,”she said, forcing a laugh as she wiped her face. “I think I’m just hormonal orsomething.”
Gracenarrowed her eyes skeptically. “Are youpreg—”
Beforeshe could finish her sentence, Kylie shook her head erratically. “Come on, Mom.You know I’m on the pill. No, I’m fine. I just … I just need a second. I’ll beright back.” With that, she stepped away from us and ran toward the stairs.
