Page 46 of Meant to be Falling
Looks like I’m makin’ soup.
18
LANA
“So, today was kind of crazy, right?” I say cautiously as Beck sits at the kitchen table finishing his homework while I make their lunches. Holland is in the shower, and it’s the first time since we saw Mason that Beck and I have been alone.
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “I guess.”
All right then.
“I know your dad married your stepmom pretty quick but?—”
Beck snorts as he sets his pencil on his paper and looks at me. “Sheila isnotmystepmomand she doesn’t like kids. She’s never there when we go see Dad.”
I blink and then blink again becauseexcuse me?
“Where is she when you’re there?”
He shrugs. “With her friends, I guess. We don’t really talk about her.”
I refrain from rubbing the spot between my eyebrows where tension is starting to build. I couldn’t honestly care less about Sheila or what she does, but Idocare how it affects my children, and I won’t let her or anyone else treat them as an afterthought.
“What do you talk about?”
“I dunno, Ma. He works a lot and we watch TV or play in the game room in the basement.”
Visions of my ex-husband telling the kids he ordered pizza and it’s on the counter as he retreats into his home office force me to swallow down the rage.This is not where I wanted this conversation to go.
“I wanted to apologize for the way you found out about Mason.”
“He’s your boyfriend.”
I lick my lips. “He is.”
“That’s why his hat was here,” he reasons. “Seems nice.” He shrugs and when I keep standing there, he looks at me and tilts his head to the side. “What?”
“I had a plan,” I say as I drop into the chair next to him and he grins. “I wanted to date him for a while—months probably—before you and Holland met him.”
“Why?”
“You and Holland mean everything to me, and I’m not going to introduce you to someone that doesn’t fit with us.”
“He’s nice to you.”
“He is.”
“And you’re happy.”
I open my mouth and then close it again before saying, “Why do you say that?”
“You smile more.”
The comment is simple but ithurtsas much as it makes my heart soar. Iamhappy, but it seems like I’ve done a pretty terrible job hiding the unhappy from my kids.
“So, you’re okay with maybe having Mason over for dinner? Or meeting him somewhere for ice cream?”
“Yeah.” I keep staring at him because I was expecting more pushback—moresomething.“What? You’re being weird,” he says with a laugh as he bumps my chair with his foot.
