Page 24 of Valentine's in Bayberry

While she worked, she wondered what Jackson had wanted. Maybe it had something to do with his mother. There was a part of her that wanted to go after him, but another part told her to stay put. This visit from the mayor could make or break her fledgling business. But her thoughts quickly returned to Jackson...

He paced.

Jackson couldn’t sit still. He had no idea what to expect from this meeting with his mother. The last time he’d seen her, she was angry with him. She was certain there was nothing wrong with her, but she’d conceded to go to the treatment to prove to him that she was right.

He wouldn’t be surprised if he had been summoned to take her home. And if that were the case, he had no idea what he’d do next. His mother couldn’t go back to her old ways. She would lose her home.

He paced back and forth in the small room. When his phone rang, he turned it off. He didn’t want to be disturbed when he spoke to his mother. The truth of the matter was that he didn’t even know what to say to his mother after their boisterous argument when he’d tried to reason with her about her problem—a problem she refused to admit existed.

He heard the jiggle of the door handle and the merest creak as the door opened. Jackson spun around.

His mother stood in the doorway. In that moment, he felt like his seven-year-old self, seeing his mother for the first time after she’d returned from Wyoming, where she’d cared for her gravely ill sister. It had felt like she’d been gone a lifetime, just as her stay in this place felt like forever.

His seven-year-old self wanted to rush to her and envelop her in a great big hug. He wanted her to run her hand over his hair as she spoke reassuring words. He wanted her to say that there had been some sort of grave error and that she didn’t have a gambling addiction—that she hadn’t sold off family heirlooms so she could get more money to gamble with. She’d even pawned her diamond engagement ring—the one she’d promisedhim when he got married. He told himself it was just a piece of jewelry—something that could be replaced. But the ring had been his grandmother’s before it was his mother’s. It was a keepsake he’d hoped to be able to pass on to his child. Now it was gone like so many other cherished mementoes.

A wave of conflicting emotions collided within him, leaving him nauseous. He swallowed hard. He told himself to let that stuff go and be present in this moment. His mother was ill, and she was getting help. It was all that mattered in this moment.

He studied her, noticing her hair was styled differently—in a straight, off-to-the-side kind of way instead of her usual curls. Her cheeks were hallowed, as though she’d lost weight. There were faint shadows under her eyes. Had she looked this way when he’d brought her there a couple of weeks ago? Had the shadows been hidden beneath her makeup, which she wasn’t wearing now?

He walked in her direction, but as their prior encounter flashed through his mind with its contentious undertones, he stopped short. “How are you doing?”

He didn’t know what sort of answer he expected. The breath hitched in his lungs as he stared at his mother, watching for any sign of a reaction.

“I’m doing better,” she said. “Thanks to you.”

The pent-up breath whooshed from his lungs. He wasn’t sure their relationship would ever be the same after this, but this was a good start. His eyes grew misty. He blinked repeatedly.

“Well, don’t just stand there.” His mother held her arms out to him. “Come give me a hug.”

That was all the invitation he needed. He approached his mother and wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t know how long they stood there in a comfortable silence as though reassuring each other that the love was still there.

When they sat down at a nearby table, he said, “I’m so sorry.”

Her gaze searched his. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

At last, he could say all of the things that had been building up within him. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I’m sorry I moved so far away. I’m sorry I didn’t know that you were depressed. I’m sorry—”

She held up a hand, silencing him. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“But if I had been here, this wouldn’t have happened.”

She shook her head. “I could have hidden it from you just like I hid it from my closest friends. I even hid the problem from myself by telling myself that I was only going to the casino one more time—just to win back my losses. I can’t even tell you how many times I told myself that lie.”

He was impressed that she was so much better than the last time he’d seen her. “Does this mean the treatment is working?”

His mother nodded. “Thank you for bringing me here. I know I didn’t make it easy for you.”

She most certainly hadn’t made it easy, but he chose to look on the positive side of things—she was getting the help she needed. She was slowly getting back to being the mother he used to know.

They continued talking a bit. She told him about some of her counseling sessions and the various tests they’d run on her as well as starting her on anti-depressants. He talked about his time in Bayberry. He told her he was keeping busy by fixing up the old family restaurant.

He knew his mother didn’t have much time before her next group session, and he didn’t want to interfere with her new routine, but there was something he wanted to get out there so she would know that when this was all over, he wasn’t going to abandon her. “Mom, I was thinking when you get out of here that you should come live with me in London.”

Her mouth gaped. “You want me to move all the way over there?” When he nodded, she said, “But I can’t. My friends are here. My home is in Bayberry.”

“But you could make new friends and a life in London.” He suspected that she’d initially be resistant to the idea. It was a big leap, but he’d be there for her every step of the way.

Her gaze searched his. “Why do you want me to do this?”

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