Page 94 of I Heart Mason Cartwright
“Of course you do. You must have a library of DIY books by now.”
“Close. They are about the only books I read.”
“Do you read Zach’s books?”
“I read the first couple, but not really since, no.”
“I bought a few of them for my buddy’s kids. They love them.”
“Oh, that’s awesome. You’ll have to tell him, He’s here, he just went out to get coffee.”
“Great, I’d love to see him again.”
As if right on cue, Zach appears holding a coffee and an iced tea. “Well, Mason Cartwright. As I live and breathe. What on earth are you doing here?”
“This is my mom’s shop.”
“Really? Every time I think it’s a big world, something like this happens to remind me just how small it actually is.”
“Yeah, that’s for sure. Hey, you guys want to meet my mom? She’s around here somewhere.”
“I would love to,” Zach says. Willow just nods.
“Wait here, I’ll go find her. Or, go back to your seats. Or, wherever you’re comfortable. I’ll find you. Okay? Cool.”
I can’t believe what an idiot I sound like. I should have been expecting something like this to happen. That I would run into Willow or Zach, or both at some point. It’s the law of averages, right? I find my mom up front talking to her assistant, Amy.
“Hey, Mom, got a sec?”
“Sure, honey.” She comes over to where I’m waiting.
“Some friends of mine are here, I want you to meet them,” I say in a normal voice, smiling in Amy’s direction. Then as we walk between the book stacks toward the back, I whisper, “It’s Willow and her friend Zach.”
“Willow?TheWillow.”
“Yes—”
“The one you ran away to Santa Barbara to avoid your feelings for?”
I guess we aren’t ignoring that any longer.
“Yes, Mom, listen. Just be cool, okay. Don’t say anything about anything. Please.”
“I will do my best. I can’t make any promises. I forget things all the time in my old age.”
“Mom!”
She laughs. “I’m just kidding. I won’t embarrass you.”
“Thank you,” I mumble out of the side of my mouth as we get to the lounge area where Willow and Zach are hanging out. “Willow, Zach, this is my mom, Caroline. Mom, Willow and Zach.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, Missus Cartwright,” Willow says taking my mom’s hand in both of hers and clasping them.
“Oh please, call me Caroline,” Mom says. “I’ve heard so much about your family I feel like we know one another already.”
I groan softly and hang my head. Mom may not think what she said is embarrassing— actually she probably knows and just doesn’t care. Her way of pushing me in what she believes is the right direction.
“That doesn’t bode well for me,” Willow says. Her unnatural laugh is back.
