“I know.” I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight. “I don’t know what I or the girls would do without you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” I let her go and stand up. “I’m going to go wash my face and get dressed.”
“Sure,” she replies, and I head for the bathroom down the hall.
25
Cece
“Cece, are you ready to go?” I hear Mia shout.
“Yep,” I reply, walking around the corner of the living room with my overnight bag over my shoulder. “Do you think we should call Mom and Chaz to make sure they found the rental okay?”
“I think they’re completely capable of calling us if they need help,” she tells me, grabbing the keys off the table by the door, and we walk outside.
During breakfast, Bax showed up, and Talon decided to ride with him to my house so they could get started on cleaning up. Since our parents told us they want to find a place to rent for the week, Talon insisted Mia stay behind with me so we could help them, leaving his Jeep to drive over when we were ready.
“How long do you think Mom is going to be upset for?” I murmur as Mia pulls out onto the main road.
“Until you’re honest,” she answers quietly. “You have to admit you’ve kept a lot to yourself, and that hurts, especially when all we want to do is help.”
I swallow and look out the window. I know what she’s saying is true, but I’m so used to bottling everything up that I’m still not used to sharing things. Yes, I’ve opened up a lot to my sister. And when I actually do tell her things, I feel so much better. But the anxiety of leading up to talking about anything serious makes me clam up and just say fuck it. I’ll keep it all inside so no one can judge me. No one will know just how messed up I really am inside.
And while I love my mom more than anything, she’s emotional and dramatic, and I know I wouldn’t be able to handle her going off on one of her tirades if I were to confide in her.
We arrive at my house and go inside. Mia heads to the kitchen, and I spot several women in my dining room. I wave at them awkwardly, not knowing who they are, so I introduce myself. “Hi. I’m—”
“Cece,” a beautiful middle-aged woman with dark hair hurries over to me, wrapping me up in her arms. I stiffen for a moment, but feeling her warmth, I sink into her embrace. She pulls back and smiles at me. “I’m Asher’s wife, November. I understand you met him at your restaurant not too long ago.”
I relax just at the mention of her husband’s name. “Yes. I’m grateful he was there. You have an amazing family,” I tell her, because what else is there to say?
“Speaking of family, your parents, did they find somewhere to rent? Between all of us, I’m sure we could figure something out if we need to,” she assures, and I swallow against the tears stinging my throat. I refuse to cry today.
“They did. They’re going over there now then to the store.”
She nods. “Okay, good. If you need anything, anything at all, you just let us know, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you,” I murmur, and she rubs her hand up and down my arm. She introduces me to the other four women in the room—Sophie, April, Nalia, and Willow—and then gestures for me to go ahead of her toward the kitchen.
When I come around the corner with the women following me, I see Talon has his arm around Mia as they look around at all the work they’ve already done. The cabinet doors are gone, the broken dishes and everything that was smashed is cleaned up, and the appliances, which had been dented, are no longer around.
“Just who we were looking for.” Sophie grabs Mia’s hand, tugging her away from her son.
“Mom.” Talon shakes his head, sighing, and I wonder what’s going on as she and the rest of the women lead us out of the kitchen toward the back door, which November opens when we get there.
“Don’t worry, honey. We’ll take good care of her,” Sophie calls over her shoulder to Talon.
“Right, like I believe that,” I hear him mutter as I’m pulled outside.
“Shouldn’t we be inside helping clean up?” I ask as Talon’s sister Willow pushes me down into a seat on the deck under a large umbrella that’s been opened up.
“No,” his cousin April states as she pulls a bottle of top-shelf tequila from her purse.
“We’d just be in the way,” Sophie mutters, taking a seat next to Mia and patting her thigh.
“Exactly,” November agrees. “And how many times do you want to be told ‘Don’t lift that,’ ‘Be careful,’ ‘Wait for me and my big, strong muscles to help you’?”