Gibson jumped up beside her and whimpered, his huge dark eyes staring at her solemnly, his chubby tail wagging crazily as he lunged upward, trying his best to lick whatever part of her face he could reach. She grabbed him and held him close, drinking in the puppy smell that still clung to his thick golden fur. For a second he settled in her arms, his cold nose wet against the crook of her neck, his warm body still.
The lump that had sat in the back of her throat since the night before swelled and she nearly choked from the size of it. Tears welled in her eyes as Gibson nuzzled her neck and made those adorable puppy whimpers that she’d come to love.
Had she even fed him?
With a groan, Raine slid from the bed and for the first time became aware of someone pounding on her front door. She pushed a mass of dark hair from her eyes and shuffled down the hall, Gibson following dutifully behind her.
The wooden floors were cold beneath her bare toes, and she shivered as she entered the kitchen and flipped the light switch. The warm glow that fell from the new ceiling fixtures made her wince, as did the increased ferocity of the pounding that came from her foyer.
“Jesus, hold your horses.” Irritated, Raine marched down the short hallway and undid the dead bolt. Almost immediately, her door was thrown open, and she took a step back as a gust of wind pushed hard, bringing with it raindrops that hit her face so hard, they felt like ice pellets.
“My God, Raine. I’ve been calling for hours. Are you all right? I was worried.”
Raine stared at her mother and fought the urge to slam the door closed. The woman stood before her dressed from head to toe in vibrant yellow rubber. From the tip of her rain hat and coat to the bottom of her knee-high wellies—the woman looked like a giant rain-slicked condom.
The door closed behind her mother, and Raine watched silently as she shrugged out of her wet gear. She hung her jacket on the coatrack, left her boots on the small area rug in front of the door, and wrung out the long braid that fell over her shoulder. The ends were drenched, and a good amount of water fell onto the rug.
Gloria Delgotto’s olive skin was pale, her lips pinched, and Raine wondered how long she’d been sta
nding on her porch.
“Raine…” her mother started quietly.
Here we go.
“I’ve been calling all day. Is there something wrong with your phone?”
Raine turned and headed toward the kitchen, mostly out of habit, since she wasn’t hungry and had no intention of eating. She grabbed the phone off the counter, aware of her mother’s eyes on her, and very carefully, with much exaggeration, placed it back on the cradle. She reached for the kettle and filled it with water.
“Are you having tea, Gloria?” Raine knew it bothered the woman that she refused to call her mother and yet how could she? Gloria had been on another continent for most of Raine’s life, taking care of someone else’s little girls. She hadn’t called Gloria Mother or anything like it since she was fifteen and Gloria had left for the Sudan for the tenth time in as many years. Gloria Delgotto was no more a mother than…
Than I’ll ever be.
Raine cleared her throat as she turned to Gloria. Vibrant blue eyes stared back at her, though at the moment they were shadowed with what she supposed was concern and maybe more than a little dose of gratitude.
“Tea would be lovely.” Gloria moved until she was on the other side of the island and pulled out one of the rich-brown pub stools. She settled onto it and watched in silence as Raine grabbed two mugs and two tea bags from the cupboard.
While waiting for the water to boil, Raine filled Gibson’s food dish, feeling a little guilty as the puppy dove in with gusto, his eyes full of appreciation as he wolfed down his meal in between whimpers of delight.
Big fail on her part as she realized not only that she hadn’t fed the dog, but that his water dish was bone-dry. A sigh escaped her lips as she filled his stainless-steel bowl. Maybe Jake was right after all.
“Have you eaten today?”
Raine glanced at her mother sharply. “What?”
Gloria’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to speak, but then paused and stared at Raine in silence. Her scrutiny made Raine uncomfortable, and she blushed when she looked down and realized she’d buttoned her pajama top incorrectly. The ends were misaligned and there were gaps between the buttons.
Her hair was a tangled mess, and if she were brutally honest, she’d have to admit that she didn’t exactly smell all that good either.
“Raine,” her mother said gently. “Have you eaten today?”
Raine ignored her mother and fixed her pajama top before pouring the steaming water into their cups and tossing the tea bags inside. She grabbed milk and sugar and set them on the countertop—if memory served, her mother liked her tea sweet, with loads of milk.
The hot mug felt wonderful in her hands and she took a tentative sip, her eyes lowered, her mind racing for ways to get rid of Gloria as soon as teatime was over. She just didn’t have the energy to deal with her, and even if she had…she didn’t want to.
“Raine.” Her mother’s voice was sharper, and with a sigh, she glanced up. She really was too tired for this.
“Look, Gloria, I know you think at some point over the next little while we’re going to miraculously bond or something, but honestly, it’s not going to happen, so…”