“That’s usually the way of it. They catch you unaware and sink under your skin,” her mother said.
Joey eased down into the high black stool at the kitchen island.
“So give me the rundown. How did you meet him? What’s his name, yada, yada, yada,” her mother asked, scooping coffee into the filter and shutting the lid.
Joey held her breath. “I met him through Juliette’s fiancée, Shooter.”
“The biker?” Her mother turned around and stared, coffeepot dangling in her hand.
“Yes,” Joey said, stunned by her mother’s response. Her lips were pulled into a straight line, and a frown turned the corners of her lips down.
“What’s his name, Josephine?”
The alarm in her mother’s voice tightened the vise around Joey’s heart. “Moose.”
“Oh Jesus, he’s a biker, isn’t he?” Her mother’s eyes rounded like a doll’s and her jaw twitched.
“Yes,” Joey said. She cringed as her mother gripped the coffeepot handle tightly. What am I missing?
“With the same M.C. Lords of Mayhem?” her mother asked.
“Yeah…” Joey sighed and studied the granite countertop.
“Oh, Joey girl, the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it?” her mother whispered.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I never wanted to bring up bad memories or make you ashamed of me,”she said. Her spirits plummeted. Joey traced her fingers along the cool surface in front of her.
“Wait—is that what you think?” her mother said. Glass clinked. Her mother leaned over the island, cupped Joey’s chin with her small hand and pulled her face up to meet her gaze.
“Yes,” Joey said, forcing the words out around the lump in her throat. She sniffed as her vision blurred.
“Hey, there’s nothing in this whole world you could do to make me ashamed. You’re an amazing woman, who I had the pleasure of raising. I mean, let’s be honest, we grew up together, and you never faulted me for it. I had no backup, no mother figure to take advice from. We rode out the storm and found a solid place to stand on.”
“I love you, Mom.” She sniffled.
“And I love you, Joey girl.” Her mother leaned in, kissed her cheek and then released her face. “My memories of my past aren’t bad, just different. A way I couldn’t live while with a child. Not when I wasn’t an official old lady.” Her mother shook her head and turned, picking up the coffeepot and filling it. “I wasn’t about to stay and let you suffer for my sins. No child should see their mother in that light.”
Joey’s mind drifted back to Red and she
tried not to cringe. She refused to believe her mother ever acted that way. Mean-spiritedness wasn’t in her.
With the coffee brewing, her mother took a seat beside her. “Tell me about Moose.”
“Just like the animal, he’s big, funny, a force to be reckoned with when angry and from Canada,” Joey said unable to keep from smiling.
Her mother laughed.
“He has the bluest eyes I think I’ve ever seen. A cerulean hue I’m convinced rivals the ocean and reddish-brown hair. I think he has dimples, but it’s impossible to tell with his beard.”
“Sounds rugged,” her mother noted.
“Mmm, very,” she said. A dreamy sigh escaped her lips. I have it so bad.
“Oh girl, you’re gone.” Her mother chuckled.
“Mom, I can’t afford to be.”
“Is he treating you badly? Because I can still call in a favor.”