Page 82 of #Moonstruck

It wasn’t Ryan. It was an older blonde woman I didn’t recognize.

“I’m Cynthia’s daughter. Can I help you?”

“Of course you are. You look just like her. You probably don’t remember me. I’m Elaine Jorgenson. I was your mom’s best friend when we were younger. We lost touch about ten years ago, and I only just heard about what happened. I was hoping I could visit with her.”

I asked Elaine if she could sit with me, and I told her about my mother’s condition. That seeing Elaine would be a shock, given that my mom thought she was still a teenager. “She doesn’t even have any mirrors in her room.”

Elaine fiddled with her purse straps. “I certainly don’t look the way I did when I was sixteen. I didn’t know. Last year I moved about half an hour away from here, and when I got in touch with some old high school friends, they told me about the accident. They didn’t say we couldn’t visit.”

“It’s probably better for her that you don’t. I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. I should have called first. I just felt awful when I heard. She was always such a good friend to me. I remember how our freshman year in college she’d make me her special brownies every time I got my heart broken.”

“Brownies?” I repeated, hopeful anticipation rising inside me. “Do you know what recipe she used?”

“The recipe? You mean the one on the back of every box of Betty Crocker brownie mix?”

Wait. Was she saying what I thought she was saying? “My family’s secret recipe is Betty Crocker? What about the frosting? Is that Betty Crocker, too?”

Elaine let out a little laugh. “It is! Your mom was not very happy with her mother when she found out. She’d thought it was something complicated and mysterious, and it turned out to be something you could buy from the store. They were still delicious, but she was disappointed.”

I totally understood how my mom had felt. I’d spent years trying to perfect something that hadn’t existed to feel closer to her. It crushed me to think I could have picked up a box at any time and made her brownies. It was disappointing to think of all the time I’d wasted wanting to connect with this family tradition that turned out to be something so simple.

We walked out to the parking lot together. Elaine and I exchanged information, and I promised to keep in touch and let her know how my mom was doing, especially if there were any changes. I almost told her to follow me on social media, but I didn’t want her to see what the Luna-chicks and Luna-tics were saying about me.

I got into Ryan’s car as she drove off. Unable to help myself, I went on YouTube to watch the video of Ryan singing my song and then us kissing. I scrolled down to look at the comments. Most of them were about how pathetic I was to throw myself at him; how I wasn’t good enough for him; that I must have seduced, manipulated, or tricked him; or how I should die so he wouldn’t be forced to spend time with me.

Although I knew I shouldn’t care, and usually didn’t, self-doubt flooded my mind. Maybe it was because Ryan had just told me he loved me, which made me feel more vulnerable. Despite what I’d told him earlier about internet trolls, their comments did bother me. They hurt my feelings. Their comments made me insecure.

He made me feel like I was a complicated, mysterious, special kind of brownie.

But what if I was just a regular old mix?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Instead of letting myself sit there and wallow, I drove to the grocery store and loaded up on enough junk food to feed my entire family. After I went to Ryan’s house and put my groceries away, I went out for a run and let all the stress and anxiety get eaten up by the pounding of my feet against the pavement. Then I took a long, steamy, relaxing shower and got ready for dinner. I heard Ryan come home, and he called out to me. I told him I was getting ready. I didn’t want to see him yet. I took the time to blow-dry my hair and put on makeup. Like it was some kind of armor against the world and what they thought of me.

Or maybe I was just afraid he’d see through me. See what his fans saw.

At six thirty I went downstairs and found Ryan sitting at a grand piano, playing a tune I didn’t recognize. My heart constricted when I saw him. He was so gorgeous. He’d styled his hair and put on a dark-blue button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black slacks. We almost looked like we’d coordinated our outfits. He must have heard my heels against the hardwood floor because he turned when I entered the room.

“Wow. I don’t want to objectify you, but in my mind I just totally objectified you. You’re beautiful.”

How did he manage to make me blush and laugh at the same time? “I would say the same, but you already have the whole world telling you how handsome you are.” He didn’t need me to make his head any bigger.

“But your opinion is the only one that matters.” He crossed the room to hug me and then kissed me gently. I reached up to brush my lipstick from his mouth.

“In that case, you’re gorgeous, and you know it.”

He rewarded me with a bone-melting smile and said we should be going. He called Fox and told him we were ready.

“Does he know?” I asked as a black SUV rolled up the driveway.

“He has no idea. He just thinks he’s coming to watch out for me.”

On the drive to the restaurant, Ryan told me about his day. From his tone it sounded like his meeting with his father had not gone well after Ryan told him he’d already handed over the financial aspects of his career to a business manager.

“You should fire your father.” Ryan needed someone looking out for his best interests. Someone who would put him and his career first.

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