“It’s a welcome break, Mom, and you spoil me.” Still, Marisa wanted to give her mother and Ted their space so they could enjoy their relatively new married life.
“Well, you’re just in time to help me assemble the lasagna,” her mother said with a laugh, “so you’ll be working for your supper. Ted will be home soon.”
When they reached a small but recently remodeled kitchen, Marisa draped her things on a chair, and her mother went to the counter crowded with ingredients and bowls.
Marisa’s gaze settled on a framed photo of Donna and Ted on their low-key wedding day. Donna and Ted were all smiles in the picture, her mother clutching a small sprig of flowers that complemented a cream satin tea-length dress. Marisa had been their sole attendant, and one of their witnesses, because Ted had been childless before his marriage.
Marisa bit back a wistful sigh. She and her mother had always been each other’s confidantes—the two of them against the world—but now her mom had someone else. Marisa couldn’t have been happier for her.
It was just... It was just... An image of Cole rose to mind.
What had she been thinking? What had he? He’d kissed her in the storage room last week—and she’d kissed him back. And the memory of that kiss had lingered...replayed before she went to sleep at night, while driving to work and during breaks in the school day.
The teenage Cole had nothing on Cole the man. He’d made her come apart in his arms, and it had both shocked and thrilled her. She’d been under the influence at the time, of course. Panic and proximity—mixed with the confession of long-held secrets—had made a heady brew while they’d been locked in together.
Her mother glanced at her, her brows drawing together in concern. “You seem worried. Are you taking care of yourself?”
The question was one that Marisa was used to. Ever since she’d been born a preemie, her mother had worried about her health. She gave a practiced smile. “I’m fine.”
“Well, you were a fighter from day one.”
Marisa continued smiling, and as she usually did whenever her mother’s worries came to the fore, she tried to move the conversation in a different direction. “Serafina found an apartment and is moving out tomorrow.”
“I heard.”
“I’ll have my apartment to myself.” Even before her cousin had moved in, she’d hardly felt as if she lived alone. She and Sal had been serious enough that he’d often been at her place or he’d been at hers.
“You should get married.”
Marisa bit back another sigh. She hadn’t succeeded in steering the talk to safer waters. “I was engaged. It didn’t work out.”
Ever since her mother had met and then married Ted, she’d viewed marriage in a different light.
“So?” Donna persisted. “He wasn’t the right man. You’ll meet someone else.”
Marisa parted her lips as Cole sprung to mind. No. He was her past, not her future, even if he occupied her present. Get a grip. “Mom, I know you’re still a bit of a newlywed, so you’re looking at the world through rose-colored glasses, but—”
Her mother sobered. “Honey, how can you say so? I may be newly married, but I haven’t forgotten the years of struggle...”
Donna’s amber eyes—so like Marisa’s own—clouded, as if recollections of the past were flashing by. Marisa wondered what those memories were. Was her mother recalling the same things she was? The years of juggling bill payments—staying one short step away from having the electricity turned off? The credit card balances that were rolled over because Donna was too proud to ask relatives for a loan?
“I know, Mom,” Marisa said quietly. “I was there.”
Donna sighed. “And that’s part of my guilt.”
“What?”
“I didn’t shield you enough. Your childhood wasn’t as secure as I would have liked it to be.”
“You did your best.” Wasn’t she always telling her students to try their best? “I always felt loved. I graduated from a great school, got a college degree and have a great job.”
“Still, I wish you had someone to lean on. I’m not going to be around forever.”
“Mom, you’re only fifty-four!” In that moment, however, Marisa understood. While she’d worried about her mother, her mother had reciprocated with concern about her.
“I wish I’d left you with siblings,” her mother said wistfully.
“You could barely handle me!” Besides, she had cousins. Serafina for one.