Page 28 of Until Tomorrow Comes
“Ma, this is Kat.” I pause for a second, debating what I should tell my mom about Kat, but decide to not address it. “Kat, this is my mom, Linda.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Turner.” Kat says over her shoulder, only turning slightly as she offers a small smile and a wave of the spatula.
That seems to snap my mom back into action. She makes her way to the island, waving a dismissive hand in the air and sets a box from the local bakery down on the island.
“Please, Mrs. Turner was my mother in-law. Either Linda or Ma.”
Kat smiles politely before facing the stove again. However, I notice the way her shoulders slouch together while she leans into the countertop, and the way the spatula shakes slightly as she scoops some eggs onto a plate.
At the sight of her discomfort, I feel a desire to protect her, as well as her privacy. Since she’s wearing that oversized shirt, the only visible evidence is the splint on her fingers and the cut on her face. While that has been healing nicely so far, it’s still jarringly noticeable against her pale skin.
Clearing my throat again, I motion toward the back door.
“Ma, let’s chat on the deck. Do you want some coffee?”
“Oh nonsense, do you want me to freeze out there?” She rounds the island and heads toward me, pushing me lightly so that she can get to the coffee pot. I roll my eyes at her dramatics for referring to sixty-two as “freezing.”
“Why don’t you grab me one of your serving trays for the pastries.”
I’m about to tell her no, and just deal with the fight my mom will start, when I catch Kat’s eyes. She watches my mom pour herself coffee before looking at me. While my mom prattles on about Mrs. Maria, the woman that owns the bakery in town, getting a divorce, my attention is on Kat.
Her eyes close slowly as she takes a visible deep breath. And then another. When her eyes open again, immediately locking on mine, a small smile stretches across her face and she nods once.
When my mom finally stops talking, Kat appears to be slightly more relaxed as she faces us and asks,
“How do you guys like your eggs?”
***
“Todd said you haven’t called him back.” My mom states as she stands from her seat at my kitchen table.
I blink, watching her bring her dishes to the sink, completely oblivious to what she has just triggered. A mixture of pain and rage begins to bubble in my chest.
The past hour has gone by smoothly.
Mostly, Kat and I listened to her talk endlessly about what is new with the families in town, even though Kat doesn’t know any of these people. For a few minutes, I even believed that we would make it through a meal without my mom getting under my skin.
Then she goes and brings upTodd.
My teeth grind painfully together while I attempt to breathe calmly through my nose.
Apparently my mother thinks I should be over the fact that mybrothergot my ex-wife pregnant.
After another deep inhale to make sure I don’t yell at my mom, I shoot her a glare.
“I have nothing to say to him.” I hiss through clenched teeth.
I glance at Kat, who is playing with the remaining bits of eggs on her plate and watching them like they are the most fascinating thing in the world. Pushing my chair back, I stand and gather my dishes.
“You should just hear him out,” my mom says with a loud sigh. Her eyes line with tears as she hangs her head between her shoulders, acting as if I told her I kicked a kitten. “He’s doing really well. Him and Molly just bought a house, the baby turns—”
She’s cut off by my plate loudly clashing to the bottom of the sink. I cringe when I see Kat jump from her seat in response, but I turn back to my mother.
“Do not bringherup,” I growl.
But I’m not referring to my ex-wife.
I have told my mother repeatedly to not bring up the baby, and even though it’s my one line in the sand, she always finds a way to cross it.
