Page 121 of Just the Wrong Twin

“I was?” she asked, hearing only the part she wanted to hear. She clutched his sleeve again. Nate had to notice that it was the left one. “Then we can start again…”

“No,” he said softly, lifting her hand away. “There’s no second chance, Trish. Take care.” He turned again to go to his mom’s door.

“My boys need a father!” she blurted and he halted to glance back.

“They must already have one.”

“A father they can look up to. A man who is responsible and honorable,” Trish said. “You’d be a great dad, Nate…”

“And maybe I will be one, one day. I won’t stand in for anyone else.”

“Not even for me?” She smiled, obviously trying to charm him into agreement, but Nate felt nothing at all.

“Especially not for you,” he said and her eyes flashed. “Bye, Trish.”

“Fuck you!” she spat, then marched down the driveway, fury fueling her steps. “And fuck your sister, too!”

“Not a chance,” Nate murmured, then his mom opened the door, her smile bright enough to light the heavens.

“Simon says he loves pot roast!” she said then caught him close in a tight hug. Nate met Troll’s gaze over her shoulder, knowing that no one was fooled that his taste for pot roast was the reason for his mom’s delight.

“That’s that, then,” she said when she pulled back, kissing his cheek once more. “Now come in, both of you. Everything’s ready. And maybe you can take some of these kitchen things back with you that Diane dropped off earlier this week.”

“Sure,” Simon said. “There’s a lot of room in the truck.” He shed his jacket and hat, then went to wash his hands.

Nate’s mom dropped her voice to a whisper. “When Diane said Trish was coming and you still loved her, I was hoping so much that she was wrong.”

“Totally wrong,” Nate said as he gave her another hug.

She sighed then went to stir the gravy. It did smell fantastic. “Diane is never wrong.”

“You’ll have to revise that. Apparently, she can be.”

“I made a pot roast, and an apple pie,” his mom said, pulling back to look at him. “You look good. Boston must suit you, but you have to take the leftovers with you.”

“Are there going to be any?” Nate asked and his mom laughed as Troll reappeared.

They sat down and tucked in, everything as good as Nate remembered his mom’s cooking to be. Simon was fulsome with his compliments and insisted they help with the dishes before leaving.

“I’m also supposed to talk to you about the Fourth of July,” Nate said when they were finishing up. He’d thought the discussion might go better in person than over the phone.

His mom got a stubborn look. “I suppose Diane has you on her side about cancelling this year.”

“I suppose she does.”

“But I’m so tired of being alone in this house! Even my groceries are being delivered. I need to talk to people, Nate.”

“Why don’t you come up to Boston and see my new place instead?” he offered on impulse. “I could come down to pick you up, then you could stay the weekend. My new apartment has a second bedroom.”

“And you’ll get to meet Sheba,” Troll interjected.

“I forgot about Sheba. You must have pictures.”

Nate did and they went through them all. Troll meanwhile loaded the donations from Diane into the back of the SUV.

“That would be a lot of driving for you,” Nate’s mom said when Troll was ready to go.

“When you love someone, it’s not a big deal to do whatever you can to make them happy.” Nate smiled. “My mom taught me that.”

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