Page 9 of Steamy Dreamy Hearts

Earplugs were a no go. Erin waited for me to sit and hear her play, and I couldn’t hurt her feelings like that. Not when things were already hard for her. Not when Erin was still so affected by Dan’s death and angry at Mom for leaving and moving away.

“Hey, how about we give Grandma a call? I bet she’d love to hear your new trombone piece.”

I video-dialed my mom before Erin could answer.

“Mom, how are you? Erin and I wanted to say hi.”

I aimed the phone at Erin. My mom smiled at her.

“Hello, sweet girl. How is the playing going?”

Erin only gave a small wave, then turned her back a little. She began to play but ignored the FaceTime call.

My mom’s eyes turned sad. God, it was so hard when members of your family had hurt feelings. All I wanted was to fix it for them both.

“Sorry,” I muttered, walking into the other room as Erin played. “I put her on the spot. It’s my fault she’s annoyed.” I tucked the phone under my chin in order to bend down and scoop up some of Erin’s scattered clothes. A T-shirt, a lone sock,a skinny red belt Erin never wore. Laundry was endless in our house.

Mom sighed heavily. “I made the best decision I could.”

“Without consulting me.”

“Is Erin the child here or you?” Mom asked.

“Me? I’ve had to be the adult for a long time. Way before Erin came along,” I groused, folding a pair of underwear. Mom was silent; she knew it was true. I was born mature. Serious and driven, I rarely allowed myself to be a child, even when I was one. When my father died when I was still young, I took over a lot of the responsibilities. These qualities helped make me a good captain, maybe, but it came with a cost.

“Sean…” Mom said gently. “I’m upset this place is far from you, but it fit all of my needs, present and future. The best thing is for Erin not to witness my daily struggles. Or for you to have it all added to your shoulders.”

“My shoulders are fine,” I grumbled, patting them. “For a guy my age, I’ve got the shoulders of a twenty-year-old.”

“And those shoulders deserve a break. Maybe a night out. A new romance?”

“I’m too old for that stuff.”

“Nonsense. You’re only forty-two.” Mom snorted. “Give dating a chance. I am. I’ve met some lovely men.”

I winced, not wanting to hear about her senior citizen hookups. My mom getting more action than me was a weird enough idea.

“Just try dating?” she suggested. “You might find a wounded bird. That was always your type, at least with Dan. You do love a rescue.”

Wounded birdmade me flash on an image of Caleb’s liquid-brown eyes and mop of shaggy, light brown hair that he was growing longer these days. To hide the scars?

I blinked the image away. I’d hardly rescued Dan in the end. He wasn’t here. And that was my fault. So, I didn’t deserve another chance. Maybe I never would. Mom always saw the best in me, like I did with Erin. But did seeing the best in somebody make it true?

“How’s work?”

“Good. I’m getting the probies into shape.”

“Your father would be proud.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’d like to think so…” I smiled awkwardly. Unlike my mother, Dad had been disappointed in me as a young teenager. He’d loved me, but his silence over my sexuality had shamed me. We’d never discussed my coming out, and my mother failed to see how much my dad rejected me. He died on the job, a firefighter like me, and any chances for earning his trust were lost.

I frowned. “What Dad would’ve hated is my not taking care of you. That you’re in…that place.”

“It’s called assisted living, and I’m fine,” Mom said firmly. “And I’m fine living in the independent section here. It’s quite nice. The food is lovely. More than I can eat.” Mom paused with a small frown on her face. “Are you and Erin eating enough? I can send a package?—”

“We’re all good.”

“You’re looking a little thin, Sean.”

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