“I’m sorry. I wish I was what she wanted for you.” She couldn’t help but feel like she’d failed him. “I tried, but I can see she hates me. I mean, before I heard her say it, I knew I was a disaster.” Tonight had been a test, and she’d gotten a big, fat F. “I’m mortified over the coughing. That cracker just got stuck in there.” A giggle escaped.
He laughed too, which made her laugh harder. Soon, they were practically hysterical. Tears streamed down her face as she reached for him, talking and laughing at the same time. “Stop, this is not funny.”
“I’m sorry.” He wiped his eyes. “You’re right. Choking from dry crackers and pâté is not funny.”
“Promise me I’ll never have to eat that liver pâté thing ever again.”
“I promise,” he said. “I want you exactly how you are. I’llnever ask you to change. Not for my mother. Not for me. You stay exactly you, Alissa Mann, and I’ll be happy.”
A week later, after not hearing from his mother, and with his father communicating to him only at work, Alissa and Jed were curled up on his couch, talking.
“Your dad really hasn’t said a word to you all week?” she asked.
“Other than a few sentences of email, no,” Jed said. “It’s not like we talk that much. He allows me to run my department how I wish. But he’s definitely making his displeasure known. My mom might act like the bad guy but they’re a united front.”
“Do you think they’ll fire you?” she asked.
“I had my lawyer look at my contract this week. In no place does it say anything about the business being handed down to me after his retirement. I have a regular employee contract. So, they could.”
“How does that make you feel?” Alissa asked, remembering from therapy when she was a kid that open-ended questions were a great way to get people to talk.
“I don’t know. This whole thing is weird.”
She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I wish I knew what to do to make her like me.”
“That’s just it—this has nothing to do with you.” He sighed and pressed his hands into his thighs. “She’ll either come around or she won’t.”
Alissa jumped when the doorbell rang.
“Who could that be?” he asked. “It’s almost eight.” Jed uncurled from the couch and went to the spy camera that hung over the front door, then cursed under his breath. “Speak of the devil, it’s my mother.”
Alissa’s heart leapt to her throat. She sat up straighter.Wearing only a pair of black leggings and a sweatshirt with no bra, she wasn’t exactly ready for company. Earlier, they’d messed around in front of the fireplace. In fact, her bra was somewhere in this room, having been tossed away by Jed.
“Should I ignore her?” he asked.
“No, that wouldn’t be nice. Maybe she’s come to apologize.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I doubt it.”
The doorbell rang again.
“For heaven’s sake, I may as well let her in, or we’ll never get rid of her.”
“Um, do you see my bra anywhere?”
He chuckled. “Yes, here it is.” He reached under the coffee table and held up the lacy pink undergarment.
“I’ll freshen up in the powder room.” She scurried over to the small bathroom off the living room. Once inside, she brushed her hair and put on some lip gloss and her bra. Did the flush on her cheeks give away the hot sex they’d had like twenty minutes ago?
By the time she returned, Mrs. Marsh was already seated in one of the easy chairs. Jed was in the kitchen opening wine.
“Hi, Mrs. Marsh,” Alissa said.
“Hi there. Nice to see you.” Mrs. Marsh crossed one slender leg over the other. She wore black slacks, a yellow sweater and four-inch pumps.
Jed brought a glass of the wine to his mother. “Sweetie, do you want a glass?”
“No, thanks,” Alissa said as she took a seat on one end of the sectional.