“Asher.” Mom’s hand landed on my forearm. “Why haven’t you talked to your future wife about having babies? This is an important conversation any couple should have.”
As she spoke, her black-and-white-striped suitcase that she’d had for years appeared at the top of the chute. I stepped toward it, readying myself to grab it from the belt as soon as it landed.
“Asher,” Mom protested, but I didn’t answer her.
Instead, I focused my attention on timing it right so I was leaning forward to grab the handle as it went by. Thankfully, Mom didn’t demand that I talk to her right there by the luggage corral. Instead, she waited until we’d made it to my truck, had her luggage secured in the bed, and were sitting inside. We were buckling our seatbelts when she brought it up again.
“Asher, you need to talk to Coralie about this. What if she doesn’t want to have kids?” Mom’s seat belt clicked into place so she turned to face me with her arms folded once more.
“Then we won’t have kids,” I said as I put the truck into reverse and pulled out of the parking spot.
Mom sputtered, like my response was the last thing she expected to hear. Or was willing to hear. “Asher Patrick Wolfe, what are you saying?”
I sighed. I was already emotionally exhausted about all of this. I’d spent so much time trying to force myself not to care, that I felt physically numb. “It’s fine,” I muttered as I followed the exit arrows through the parking garage.
“You’ve wanted kids forever. What’s changed?”
“Mom.” I slowed to a stop so I could turn to face her. “Coralie probably wants kids, so this conversation is moot.”
Her gaze searched mine as if she were looking for the answer to a question she hadn’t asked me. I hated to see how worried she looked. I wanted her to be happy. I was getting married. This was supposed to be one of the most exciting days of her life.
It was supposed to be one of the most exciting days ofmylife. But excitement was the last thing I was feeling.
“Are you in love with her?” Mom’s question was to the point. It startled me, so I stared at her, wondering how to answer that.
I didn’t know what love was anymore. I thought that love was what I felt for Ella, but how could one person love another so much without having it reciprocated? It didn’t seem fair.
Did I think I could feel for Coralie what I felt for Ella? I wasn’t sure. I had a history with Ella that I was never going to have with Coralie. That didn’t mean I couldn’t get there.
And I prayed I could get there. Eventually.
“Of course,” I lied as I turned my attention forward once more and pressed on the gas. “I wouldn’t be marrying her if I didn’t.”
Mom didn’t push the topic for the rest of the drive to my apartment. Instead, she told me about her students, the house, and her cranky neighbor’s cat, Rufus. I chuckled as she recounted stories about her students and the funny things they told her. As I drove, I found myself relaxing from the familiar sound of her voice and the melodic way her laughter filled the cab of my truck.
I’d missed my mom so much, it hurt.
When we got to my apartment, I parked in the back. Mom got out of the truck at the same time I did, but I beat her to the bed and pulled the tailgate down. After fishing out her luggage, I carried it all over to my building and up to my apartment. After I set her up in the guest bedroom, she told me she wanted to take a minute to freshen up.
I was sitting on the couch, answering an email, when her door opened.
“What’s with the pile of stuff in the corner of the room?” she asked as she walked through the living room to join me on the couch.
“Huh?” I asked. I was only half listening to her as I read the last sentence of an email sent to me by a mortgage broker.
“In the room. There’s a pile of stuff in the corner. Looks like towels, mats, pillows.” She eyed me. “What’s that about?”
Oh. Right. That was the Ella pile. Coralie seemed to sense that my apartment was full of stuff Ella picked out, and she had been sending me things all week to replace those items with. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the old stuff, so I’d been stacking it in the guest room. I’d forgotten it was there.
“That?” I asked as I focused my attention back on my computer screen, too scared to see Mom’s reaction when I told her the truth. “That’s the stuff Ella bought for my place. Coralie is wanting to start fresh.”
“Ella’s stuff?” Mom asked.
I nodded. “Yeah.” I flicked my gaze to her for only a moment before I went back to my computer. I was going to wait to see what Mom had to say about that. Her expression was unreadable, and I didn’t want to make assumptions about how she felt.
But she didn’t continue. Instead, she asked me what the plans were for the rest of the day. I told her that I was going to take her to the diner for lunch and then we’d drive around the island if she wanted. I let her know that I had a bachelor party planned for the evening and she was more than welcome to join me, but she just scoffed and waved away my suggestion, telling me that it would be well past her bedtime.
It was so nice, spending the afternoon with my mom. I loved showing off the small island town, and from heroohsandaahs, she loved it too. She kept turning to me and telling me how perfect this place was to raise a family. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I was probably moving to New York. I was certain that confession would break her heart as well as mine.
