Page 82 of Love and Landscape (Rockland Falls 3)

“This place is my home.”

“New York is your home, with Charles. This place is nothing, Kathryn. Small town people with their small minds. Their biggest decision is whether to wear the blue jeans or the shorts to the town festival.”

“I love this town. Father knew it. That’s why he left me this place,” I insist, digging my heels in the ground.

“Your father left you this place because he knew I didn’t want it. You need to put it on the market and come back with me. We can still fix this mess you’ve created with Charles,” she says, grabbing me by the arm and starting to pull me toward the doorway.

“Stop!” I yell, pulling my arm from her grip. “I don’t want to fix anything with Charles. I’m not going back to New York, Mother. I’m sorry, but I’m staying. I’m happy here.” My heart starts to pound in my chest and I can feel the sweat breaking out on my brow.

She stares at me with lifeless eyes. “This better not be about that boy.”

“That boy? You mean Jensen?” I gasp, glaring at her as if she’s someone I don’t recognize. And maybe that’s just it. Maybe I’ve never really seen the real Annabelle Elliott.

“Yes, him. His entire family is trash, Kathryn. You’re so far above them it’s not funny,” she says, crossing her arms over her expensive, designer top.

“But I’m not, don’t you see? I don’t want to be above him. I want to be with him,” I insist.

“You’re talking nonsense, just like his father did all those years ago,” Mother retorts, an angry bite of the tongue.

That stops me in my tracks. “What do you mean?”

As if realizing what she said, she waves a dismissive hand. “Never mind, darling. It’s enough of this game you’re playing now and time to come home to New York.”

“I won’t. I’m staying.”

“You are so much your father’s daughter.”

Her words strike me as an intended insult, but honestly, I feel honor. My father was a good man, despite whatever affair he had when I was younger. “I’m not leaving, and the papers are signed. I’m not married to Charles anymore, Mother, and if you value any sort of relationship with me, you’ll respect that.”

Her eyes flare with anger. “You want the trailer trash? You want a man who can’t provide for you the way you’re accustomed to?”

“Don’t you see, Mother? I’m not accustomed to anything. You are. You’re the one with the impossibly high standards, not me. I love him. I don’t care if he runs his own business or if he were a trash collector. It doesn’t matter to me. It’s the way he makes me feel. That’s why I’m with him.”

She just stands there, staring at me as if I were a stranger she barely knows. “You’ve always been so noncompliant.”

“That’s because I’m my own person with her own wants and needs.”

Mother rolls her eyes dramatically. “Fine. You want to slum it with the town lawnboy, then you’ve made your bed. Don’t come crying to me when he takes all of your money and leaves you with nothing.”

“Clearly you don’t know Jensen Grayson,” I state.

“If he’s anything like his father, I’m sure I can figure it out,” she responds, though I’m not sure she intended for me to hear it.

Unsure why Jensen’s father has now been brought into this a second time, I decide to try to salvage any relationship I have with my mother. “It’s getting late. Do you have a place to stay?”

She looks at me with wide eyes. “I thought I’d be able to stay with my only daughter.”

I exhale. “Of course you can stay. I can get one of the other guest bedrooms made up,” I tell her.

“My bags are in the car,” she replies, walking around me and entering the main living room. “You’ve made a lot of changes.”

I noticed she didn’t compliment those changes, so I opt to just say, “Yep. I’ll grab your bags.”

Outside, the evening air is cool against my skin as I make my way to my mother’s BMW. Three large suitcases are in the popped trunk, and it’s hard to get them out and up the stairs. Did she pack for a month’s visit? Oh God, she’s staying a month, isn’t she?

After the third bag is brought inside, I set them beside the staircase, deciding to give myself a little break before trekking them up to one of the rooms.

“You’ve updated the kitchen, I see,” she says, walking through the formal dining room I have yet to use.

---