But Marnie Dalton had never been one of those mothers who was content to be blissfully ignorant of what her daughters were up to, and neither was she a live-and-let-live personality.
And right now, Brynn was wishing she and her mother had just a little less in common, because she knew her mom was seeing right through her.
Right to that tattoo, and right to the stain that Will Thatcher had left on her…well, not her heart. But somewhere.
“Just a change, huh? Just like this little hiatus from your career was a change?”
Her mom had stopped short of calling Brynn irresponsible, but Brynn heard it anyway. She knew that tone from dozens of I’m disappointed talks. Only, those lectures had never been directed at Brynn. Sophie had always been the one to drive her mother batty with her refusal to do anything “expected” for much of the past ten years. Only Sophie’s marriage to someone as classically conservative as Gray had managed to appease Marnie.
Apparently their mother had decided to channel her meddling energy elsewhere, and Brynn was really wishing she had another sibling right about now. Anyone to deflect her mom’s speculative gaze.
“Come on, Mom, haven’t you ever needed a little break from yourself?”
To Brynn’s surprise, her mom paused in slicing a tomato and appeared to put genuine thought to the question. “A break from myself? I don’t think so. I’m not sure what I would need a break from.”
Brynn hid a smile at her mom’s immodesty. “Is it hard, then? Being so perfect, I mean?”
Marnie raised an eyebrow and went back to slicing her tomato. “You’ve been hanging out with your sister, I presume. Such sass is usually Sophie’s bit.”
Actually, Brynn had always been every bit as sassy as Sophie, it had just rarely left her mouth. But Brynn wasn’t about to confess to her mother that it hadn’t been her sister who’d brought about the more caustic change in Brynn. That it had been Will who’d made Brynn feel the most like herself that she’d felt in years—maybe ever.
Trouble was, it wasn’t the self she wanted to be.
Brynn resisted the urge to go to her purse and pull out her trusty notebook. After weeks without looking at it, she’d practically slept with it every night since Will had stormed out of her house a wee
k earlier. Had needed it to remind her that it was time to start making Good Choices.
Her dad came in from the backyard, where he’d been fussing with the grill, planting an absent kiss on the side of her head before washing his hands.
“Chris, what do you think of Brynn’s hair?”
Oh Lord.
Like his wife, Chris Dalton was tall, blond, and handsome. Unlike his wife, he didn’t give a crap about his daughter’s hairstyle.
He dried his hands as he examined her hair. “Looks about the same to me. Pretty as ever.”
Brynn beamed at her father as Marnie made a scoffing noise.
“So, Brynnster, I was beginning to think you’d gone and outgrown Sunday dinners with the family,” Chris said, helping himself to Marnie’s appetizer platter.
As far as guilt trips went, Chris had a lot to learn from his wife, but that didn’t mean the comment didn’t cause a little jolt of regret at having disappeared from her parents’ life for the past few weeks with no explanation.
“Just sort of taking some time to myself, ya know?” God, I’m lame.
Her dad nodded. “Sorry to hear about James. We really liked him.”
James?
For a second, Brynn’s mind went completely blank as though trying to place him. How strange that she’d hardly given the guy a passing thought recently. But of course her parents would assume it was a breakup with a serious boyfriend that would have her turning hermit for a few weeks. They probably imagined her sitting alone eating ice cream in her bathrobe all day.
It was a safe assumption—much better than what she’d actually been doing. She had a vivid mental picture of how warm Will’s eyes had looked by the firelight that last night together. It was quickly followed by the disgust on his face the day after when he’d walked out of her life.
Which was your idea. Let it go.
“I guess he wasn’t the one,” Brynn said lightly. She wasn’t even sure to whom she was referring anymore.
“Always thought it was a good match, though,” her dad continued. “James was stable, reliable, driven…You had all the important things in common.”