Page 72 of Lost Love Found

It’s just after 6 am when I pull into my mom’s driveway, and I can see the lights are still off inside. I don’t want to wake her, so I sit in the car and wait.

I must fall asleep because the next thing I see and hear is my mom in her housecoat tapping on the car window. I take the key out of the ignition and exit the car slowly. My whole body is stiff from driving all night and I really need to pee.

“Honey. What are you doing out here? It’s cold. Come on. Let’s go inside. I have the kettle on.” She doesn’t ask anything else. Doesn’t comment on why I have a tear-streaked face and puffy eyes. She puts her arms around me and guides me into the house with a calmness only a mother can possess.

We sit at the kitchen table, and she floats around getting the tea and some muffins she just happened to have ready. I notice she has banana, Owen’s favorite, and lemon-poppy seed, my favorite, which I never make myself because she won't give me the recipe. I wonder at that moment how I never noticed that she just always has these here. Like she’s always ready for us to walk in and have tea with her.

I sit and pick at my muffin, not actually eating it. She sips her tea quietly, still not saying a word.

“I’m sorry for just showing up like this, Mamá.” My voice is shaky and rough.

She places a hand on mine. “Don’t you dare, Elaina. This is your home. And I’m your mother. Forever. No matter where you are or what’s happening, darling.”

I feel tears threatening to spill again, so I swallow hard and nod. “I really have to pee. I drove from New York without stopping.”

Mom lets out a sigh. “Go. Use the bathroom down here. I’m going to draw you a bath upstairs. You’re going to soothe those muscles and rest. We’ll talk later. OK?”

A tear slips down my cheek, and she brushes it away with the back of her hand. I get up with her and when I walk upstairs after relieving my bladder, I hear the water filling the tub. She’s putting lavender-scented salts into it. She has towels and my old robe hanging on the hooks on the wall.

“Relax, Lainey. Don’t fall asleep in there. I’ll come to check on you in a little while.” She kisses my cheek and closes the bathroom door.

The water is hot. So hot it burns a little at first, but it gives me something other than the stabbing ache in my chest to focus on. I feel my muscles relax, but my mind and my heart are going a mile a minute. I can’t stop hearing his words. I love you. That’s never going to change.

I wish I believed him. I wish I could somehow guarantee that his love would never fade. That he would never leave me. But I can’t. He can’t.

Knock, knock.

“Hi, honey. You OK in there? You didn’t fall asleep, did you?” Mom’s soft voice comes in through the crack I left open in the door. The water is barely lukewarm, so I know I’ve been in here a while.

“I’m awake, mom.” Not OK, but definitely awake. “I’ll be right out.”

I dry myself off and put on the robe. I see the light in my old room is on, so I walk into it. The curtains are drawn, and the room is darkened despite the shining sun just outside. My mom brought up my suitcase and turned down my bed. She has a fresh cup of tea on the nightstand and a fresh muffin to accompany it.

I quietly get into my bed, and she tucks me in. All it does is remind me of Adam doing the same. “Get some rest, moro mou. I’ll just be downstairs if you need anything. Anything.” I nod and she turns off the light, closing the door on her way out.

I lay there, staring up at my ceiling, in a room I haven’t spent more than a full week in since I was 18. I sit up and see my mom has also left my cell phone on the nightstand. It’s been on silent since I left New York, and I see I have a slew of missed texts and calls - two from Maeve and several more from Adam.

MAEVEY

Call me. Please.

I need to know you’re OK.

I’ll call soon, Maevey. Promise. I’m in Marblehead now. Please don’t mention it to anyone. Love you.

I love you. So much.

OK. Maeve knows I’m safe. Owen will probably eventually hear what’s going on, but I’ll deal with that later. I move on to Adam’s texts. He’s sent one per hour since I left his apartment.

ADAM

Where did you go?

Are you safe?

Elaina, please. You promised.

It’s been 4 hours. Please tell me you’re OK.

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