Page 7 of Snapping the Ice
“Hey, darlin’. They’re great. How are you doing?” Clanging sounded in the background and then rushing water. She was doing dishes. They were never ending at her house.
“I’m good. I’m doing a photoshoot for a local PHL hockey team.” Picking up a makeup brush. I twisted it in my hand, the earlier tightness in my chest releasing.
“PHL? What’s that?” The water sounds stopped.
“The Professional Hockey League. It’s like a minor league for the NAPH. So, most of the players are younger and honing their skills to move into the NAPH.” I set the brush down. I’d learned a lot about hockey through this shoot and speaking with all the guys.
“Oh, aren’t hockey players hot?” She giggled. “I bet you’ve got some eye candy there in your studio.”
I rubbed my finger along the counter of the station, Lucas coming to mind. “Yeah, they’re attractive for sure. And I’m shooting them with bare chests for a charity calendar.” She was going to love this.
She squealed. “Are you kidding me? Can you send a few of the better photos my way?”
“You know I can’t do that. There are privacy issues and copyright…” I propped my elbow on the counter and my chin in my hand, gazing into the mirror. My cheek was still red. Fucking Tate. My chest heated all over again. I had to get rid of him.
“Aw, I know, darlin’. But a girl can dream.” Lowering her voice, she said, “What’s the latest with Tate?”
Tipping my head back, I breathed in. “Nothing much. We’re still together.” She hadn’t even met him, and she didn’t like him. Probably because she knew she had to call me at work, or he’d butt in on our call and shut it down. He never liked me talking with her. It was weird.
“Oh.” She sighed. “I talked to Mom yesterday.”
Oh, here we go. “And?” I straightened my spine, my chest pinching.
“And she asked about you.”
I paused. “Uh, why?” I shifted, dropping my elbow from the counter and turning toward the studio lights. “She doesn’t care about me.” No, she made it well known when she kicked my ass out right after high school graduation. Okay, she’d given me one-thousand dollars and a suitcase of clothing, but that was it.
“She cares about you. I think she’s sorry. I think she wants to make amends,” she said in a soft voice. “Dad too.”
“Fuck Dad.” I scoffed. He’d have beaten me to a pulp and then kicked me out. I doubted he knew Mom gave me money before I left.
“Ezra, people grow, and people change. I know what they did to you was horrible. But you made it anyway.”
“That’s no excuse and you know it.” I scanned my studio,my life’s work. My parents had been toxic, and I didn’t need them in my life. Especially now.
“Well, Mom asks about you sometimes,” she said in a soft voice. “We all miss you here. I’d love it if you could come for a visit.”
The studio was so busy, when would I find the time? “Maybe. I’ll look at my schedule.” Fucking Tate would insist on coming with me, though. I huffed a sigh. “What do you tell Mom when she asks?” An ache floated through my heart. Before Mom found out about me, she’d been a decent mother.
“I tell her about your photography business.” She tutted. “I don’t tell her about your boyfriend. He’s too controlling, Ezra.”
“I know.” Slumping over the counter, I laid my forearm over it, my gaze winding to my reflection in the mirror. I deserved genuine love. Maybe someday.
“Do you still love him?” she asked.
“I…” Shit, I could talk to her. “I don’t know.” Setting my chin on the back of my hand, I rested against the counter. I looked exhausted. The stress of running a business and keeping Tate happy was showing on my face.
“If you don’t know, then you don’t.” She scoffed. “Ezra, guys who try to control you end up hurting people and I don’t mean emotionally.”
Fuck, it was like she already knew what had happened today. “Yeah, okay.”
“Has he tried to hurt you?”
“No…” I laid my cheek on my hand. I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror while lying to her.
“Are you sure? No pushing, nothing?” she asked.
“Can we drop this for now?” My throat tightened, and I swallowed through it. “I’m okay.” But was I?
