This earns me a soft laugh. “Oh, Caleb, honey. It’s been so long. I just want to feel good again, you know? And I do. Brian makes me so happy.”
I choke back all my words of warning. They’re not helpful, though I am still suspicious as hell.
“A Thanksgiving wedding, huh? Just tell me when and where to be, and I’ll be there. I love you, Ma.”
“I love you, too, darling. And I’ll let you know when I book the flights. I thought we’d all fly out Wednesday, but Brian’s daughter, Lucy, goes to school in Wisconsin, and she has a big interview coming up, so we don’t have firm plans just yet.”
For the second time today, my heart stutters.
“Lucy?”
“Lucy Alvarez, yes. Do you know her?”
For the second time today, my ass hits the floor.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I think she went to camp with us? Hey, look, Ma, Book’s calling. You forgive me?”
“Nothing to forgive, honey. You were worried, and I understand that. But I’m in good hands with Brian. Love you lots.”
“Love you, too,” I say.
And just as I’m about to lose my ever-loving shit, my boys come home.
* * *
Three hours later,and I’m on the back deck with a beer in my hand. I made a fucking mess of the kitchen, and from what I can see through the window, it looks like Ty’s on dish duty.
I hear the squeak of the sliding glass door, and a minute later, Booker parks his ass in the chair next to mine. He hands me a fresh beer, then takes a sip of sugar-free Gatorade. That’s the Booker I know and love.
“You doing ok?” he asks, and while I want to be pissy because I’ve literally answered that same question 453 times in the last few hours, I know he worries.
“I’m ok.”
“Liar,” he calls it like he sees it.
“I’m getting there,” I promise.
“Fair enough. How about your meds? Those still good? And don’t get bitchy with me. I need to know, ok? You’re my brother in every way that matters, and I’m allowed to check up on you.”
He’s right, so I keep my whining to myself. “All good, I swear. I was fine, I am fine, damn it. But my mom’s news threw me for a loop. By the time I got my head on straight about all of that, she dropped another bomb. Jesus, Book. My mom is marrying Lucy’s dad.”
“It’s crazy, that’s for sure.”
“And you know I’m doing a background check. Maybe Lucy’s dad isn’t shady as shit, but hell, maybe he is. Either way, I need to know.”
Booker shrugs. “It’s probably a good idea. But you know your mom, Whit. She’s not impulsive. She’s one of the most level-headed people I know. She wouldn’t rush into marriage if she had any doubts.”
“You can’t convince me that two months of dating is enough for my mom to make a lifetime commitment to some guy, even if he is a doctor who’s well-respected. Christ, that’s an episode of Dateline waiting to happen. But, as long as his background check comes out clean, I won’t be a dick about it. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s my mom.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Book smiles, lifting his sports drink in a toast.
“And since I’m the one who stole her happiness away on the first go round, I’m not gonna stand in the way of her second chance.”
“Whit, no,” he starts the familiar refrain, but I put my hand up to stop his protest.
“I’m serious, Booker.”
“So am I. You were a baby. Barely two years old. You didn’t steal her happiness. It wasn’t like that.”
