Jake shot a look toward his father, who shrugged. “I’ve learned to pick my battles, son.”
“Did Raine have a bad night?” his mother asked softly.
Jake turned back to his mother, unhappy to see her smile gone. The worry that creased her forehead was ingrained deeper than he liked, and it twisted his gut something fierce to see the pain she tried so hard to hide from him.
“I got her to bed but didn’t want to leave her alone, so I slept on the sofa.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
Jake’s gaze rose to just above her head. He couldn’t look his mother in the eye and lie, and he sure as hell didn’t feel like sharing the pain and nightmares that visited him during the night.
“Yeah,” he said simply. “I got a few hours.” Silence wrapped around all of them and he flashed a smile—one that belied a state of mind he didn’t feel at all.
“So.” He arched a brow. “Black Friday?”
His mother linked her arm through his dad’s and nodded, a smile once more leaving her eyes glistening. A smile that lightened him inside, if only for a moment.
“Sounds great,” he murmured, ignoring the satisfied look on Lily’s face. “Guess I should shower, then.”
Chapter 8
Marnie brought Gibson home Saturday evening, and though it took everything Raine had just to drag her butt out of bed, when Marnie asked for a hot cup of tea, she didn’t have the heart to say no.
While her mother-in-law plugged in the kettle, Raine splashed some water onto her face, threw on an old faded gray sweatshirt that hung nearly to her knees, and scraped her hair back into a messy ponytail. The sweatshirt had been Jesse’s—sent back with his things—and after his funeral she’d worn it to bed for weeks.
Raine smoothed the soft and thinned fabric. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn it and just now had grabbed only it because it was the next clean thing in her drawer.
With a sigh she glanced outside. It was after six, dark as sin, and the wind howled as it swept by her home. Being this close to the lake didn’t afford much shelter when the weather was bad, and it looked like another stormy night was in store.
It didn’t bode well for the annual football game scheduled the next day in town, but Raine had no plans to attend, and even as the fleeting thought occurred to her, she moved on. She didn’t care.
She returned to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboard, looking for anything she could serve with tea. But there wasn’t much to choose from, and she tried to hide her embarrassment when all she could muster was an open box of shortbread cookies. Raine took a bite and made a face before throwing the entire contents into the garbage.
“Sorry, Marnie. They’re a little stale.”
“Oh, I’m fine, dear. We didn’t really get a chance to chat the other night, and I just wanted to see how you were doing. A spot of tea seemed like a good idea.”
Raine avoided the woman’s probing gaze and fixed her tea, grateful that Jake hadn’t finished what little milk she had left. If she skimped a bit, there should be enough for the both of them. The date wasn’t the best, so she sniffed the carton first and then froze for a second as realization hit.
I just sniffed the carton because I have no idea if this is usable.
I’m serving my mother-in-law tea with milk that expired a week ago, and I don’t even have cookies to offer her, because they’re stale.
A lump formed in her throat, one that took a bit of effort to clear, and the hot sting of tears settled in the corners of her eyes as she tossed her tea bag and cradled her mug between cold fingers.
I’m a pathetic mess.
“Don’t worry about the milk. I take it black, hon.”
Raine nodded and set the carton of milk onto the counter. For the first time, she was going to take it black as well. She slid into the chair opposite Marnie, and the two women sat in silence for the longest time, each seeming to be lost in thought or maybe more than a little wary of what the other was feeling.
The silence grew heavy, uncomfortable. It thickened and took shape, becoming so loud that it pressed on Raine’s ears and chest, and she exhaled loudly in an effort to alleviate the stress. She knew panic would set in if she didn’t manage to calm herself, so she stared at her fingers. At the chipped blue nails and the bruise still dark on her forefinger from when she caught it in the cupboard the day before. Or was it two days ago?
“We’re worried about you, Raine.”
Marnie’s quiet words nearly undid her—the tears in the corners of her eyes sharpened—but Raine stared down into her cup and forced them away. She swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly exhaled. The abyss she’d been sidestepping for the last year and a half was closer than ever. It would be so easy to just step into it, and yet…
She stirred her tea, even though it didn’t need stirring, and avoided Marnie’s gentle gaze. She knew that if she looked into Marnie’s eyes, she’d fall apart, and as much as she didn’t care about most things, she didn’t want to add to her mother-in-law’s burden.