Page 75 of The Love Dare
“I got you a present,” he says, changing the subject now that his fears have been mollified.
“A present? You didn’t have to do that. You already got me this apartment, and my?—”
“Of course I got you a present,” he cuts in, uninterested in her praise. “My assistant should call at noon with the details. I planned it all before I left.”
“Planned what?” Her interest piques as he knew it would. She’s always loved gifts, even from the worst sort of people. A little trinket was all it took to convince her to come crawling back for more. But he’s her son. He has more money than he knows how to spend. And for all her faults, she kept a roof over his head for eighteen years. She loved him as best she could amid a lifelong battle with her own demons. Deep down, he knows it. Which is why he’s still holding on.
“Are you asking me to ruin your surprise?”
“You surprised me. I’m surprised right now.”
He snorts out a laugh. Despite the distance, he knows his mother is wearing a matching grin. “It’s a spa day at one of those fancy hotels downtown. My assistant picked it out because she knows more about that stuff than I do, but I came up with theidea. I swear. I just wasn’t sure what your schedule would be like, so I told her to call to get the date and time sorted.”
“A spa day!” she practically squeals. It makes her sound young. Sometimes he forgets that she was only nineteen when he was born, not even fifty now. She has so much life left to live, so much time, if she could only commit to not wasting it. “Oh, Tyler honey, thank you. That sounds wonderful.”
“She’s supposed to wire them some money too. Everything is prepaid, but there will be extra so you can get yourself a robe or some products or whatever the hell they have there afterward.” He takes a breath, guilt tightening his throat. His assistant was planning to give her flowers with the money sealed in an envelope, but he couldn’t risk it. He trusts his mother to an extent, but not enough to do the right thing with a wad of cold hard cash. “If it’s not enough, just let her know, or me if I’m home, and I can send over more.”
“It’s already too much, baby.”
“You’re my mom.” He shrugs. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. And I’mgood,” she adds softly, almost apologetically. “I’m being good. I promise.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t, but he can give her the words she needs to hear, even if he doesn’t totally feel them in his heart.
“I hope you’re having fun, wherever you are,” she tells him, then laughs. “But nottoomuch fun, if you know what I mean. And you do. I know you do. I don’t know how, but you’ve always been a good boy, Tyler. Better I think than I deserved.”
She’s probably right. And if he were being honest, luck, hockey, and the Rusu family had much more to do with how he ended up than she did. But it’s her birthday. He’s not the angry kid he once was. And he can’t stand to hear the sadness in her voice.
“Chin up, Mom,” he whispers. Not a denial of her claim, but forgiveness for the undeniable truth woven through it.
An airy laugh comes through the line, followed by a slight sniffle. “Chin up, baby. I love you.”
“Happy birthday.”
The line goes dead.
He clutches the phone, holding on to the stillness, the silence, trying not to let the distance and the doubts win. His mom has always been the one part of his life completely out of his control. It terrifies him. It always has. Unfortunately, there isn’t much he can do about it.
“You done?” Nina asks.
“Yeah.” He scrubs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m done.”
“Then I need your phone.”
He holds it up without looking. She walks over and grabs the device from his fingers, then stops. Her stare burns a hole through his cheek for one second, then two.
“What?” he finally asks, looking up, ready for a lancing comment.
She probes his eyes for another second, as if weighing a decision. Even though he’s sitting on the bed, they’re at the same level. She really is a tiny person. Her personality, though, casts a large shadow, and he finds himself bracing for whatever is coming. She’s got a way of seeing straight into the heart of a person. It’s unnerving, how easily she can read his greatest fears and deepest desires, like a puppeteer peering down the strings.
Tyler looks away first.
Nina sighs. “It’s dead, you know.”
“What?”
