Page 87 of Forbidden Kisses
Grace thought for a long moment. Jack had been her last selfish adventure. She’d known deep down that she shouldn’t let herself go with him, but she’d done it anyway. And then she’d lost him.
“That’s what I thought,” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts. “Here’s the deal. I’ll stop being the undeserving parent if you go after something just for you. You’re so worried about turning out like me that you’ve turned into the opposite of me. You haven’t even bought yourself something nice in forever.”
The light changed from red to green and Grace started driving again. “I can’t afford to go on a shopping spree, Mom. You know that.”
“You can now. This new job with the Sawyers pays you more. You don’t have to go wild. You don’t even have to spend a dime. Just do something for yourself, Gracie. Something nice just for you.”
Grace considered the thought while she drove back into Blushing Bay. Her mother was kind of right. She didn’t do things for herself. She maybe even prided herself a little onnotdoing things to make herself happy. “I don’t even know what I would do,” she admitted to her mom as she turned into Mrs. Smith’s driveway. “All I’ve wanted for so long is just to pay the bills and feed us.”
“So you have something to think about. Maybe that’ll take your mind off of Jack for a little while.”
Jack.She could use a distraction from him right now. Getting over him was proving to be even harder than it’d been the first time—and she wasn’t sure she’d ever fully gotten over him then.
“Help me out of the car, will you?” her mom said.
“Sure.” Grace ran around and opened the door for her mother, then helped her to the porch using her unslinged arm as a guide.
“These stairs are becoming my worst nightmare.” Her mother struggled to bend her stiff knees to navigate up the set of five steps.
“You won’t be able to manage these stairs for much longer. We should—”
“Stop right there.” Her mother held out a hand. “You’re doing it again. I am a big girl. I’ll handle my own problems. Right now you need to go figure out what you want for yourself.”
“I’m not going to stop helping you,” Grace said, as her mom reached the top step.
“I know. You’re a good daughter. Now come inside and have a cup of tea with me. Mrs. Smith makes the best tea.”
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you compliment Mrs. Smith,” Grace whispered, in case the older woman was overhearing.
“She’s growing on me. We’re good for each other.”
“That’s great, Mom.”
Now Grace needed to take her mother’s advice and figure out what was good for her. And how she was ever going to get over Jack Sawyer.
Chapter 21
Jack sat in his truck in front of the Watson family’s home for a long minute. The house was a small one-story set on the banks of a river that ran through Blushing Bay. It’d provided lots of river fun growing up. Memories pushed their way into his mind as he finally threw open his truck door and walked to the covered porch.
Maybe he should’ve called before coming over. Not that he ever had before. These doors were always open to him. He wasn’t sure if that was true anymore, though. He hadn’t been here since Chris’s death. The family’d had a mountain of food dropped off by loved ones after the funeral. Jack had stopped by and eaten quietly with other members of Chris’s family. He’d felt like a traitor among them, though. He’d been the last person to see Chris alive. Maybe if he’d been paying better attention, or if he’d been listening instead of watching for the big fish they were going to catch that day. Maybe then his friend would still be here.
His thoughts played back all the what-ifs and maybes as he climbed the steps to the front door. He rarely ever had to knock because Mrs. Watson had always seen him coming.
He knocked against the wood three times, his knuckles stinging from the force. He’d always wondered why she didn’t have a doorbell. It was a modern convenience she refused, just like a dishwasher and a microwave.
Footsteps scurried from somewhere inside the house—she was no doubt putting things in their place before opening her home to a visitor. Then the royal blue door opened to him, revealing a woman he’d missed. Just seeing her flooded him with regret that he’d stayed away all these months. Fear also speared his heart. Maybe Mrs. Watson wouldn’t welcome him the way she always had. He should’ve checked on her. Chris would’ve wanted him to.
“Jack!” Mrs. Watson pulled him over the threshold, past the royal blue door, and into her arms. She was a petite woman, but she had surprising strength. She’d never had any problem manhandling her six-foot-two son or his six-foot-plus friends. “Oh, Jack. If I’d have known you were coming I’d have made lemon bread.”
His favorite.
“I guess I should’ve called.”
Mrs. Watson pulled back and frowned. “Called? Don’t be silly.” She pointed at the kitchen table. “Go. Sit. I don’t have lemon bread, but I do have cinnamon pound cake.”
“I’m not hungry, really.”
Her dark eyes grew darker. They were the same eyes that Chris had had. “You don’t have to be hungry for cake to sit down and eat it.”
