“Clumsy.”
Sophia seemed to consider her daughter. After a moment, she relaxed. “I’ll get some ointment. It doesn’t look too deep, but just to be sure. Meanwhile both of you have a seat. And have some cookies.”
He and Erin obediently sat at the small kitchen table where a plate of warm cookies sat waiting for them.
She grinned at him as she took one. “Busted.”
He blinked. The sex? “Your mom didn’t know.”
Erin took a bite. “She knows.”
“No way.”
“I got my Trailblazer patch when I was eight. I’ve hiked all year round. I don’t run into trees. But don’t feel bad. She knew and she let you stay. That means you’re in.”
A warm, full feeling entered his chest. It didn’t help that the cookie tasted like sugar and heaven. This felt a little like he’d thought home should feel. And family. And a childhood he’d never had. In some ways he’d grown up privileged, and for that he felt both shame and gratitude. But in other ways, he’d never known until now the quiet, powerful contentedness of belonging.
* * *
Erin lay awake, unable to sleep, even as Blake rumbled peacefully through a dream behind her. A few minutes later she gave up and carefully slipped out of his arms. She padded out of the bedroom to find her mother sitting on the sofa with a book open in her lap, eyes staring sightlessly in front of her.
She snapped her attention to Erin as she entered. “What’s wrong? Do you need something to eat?”
Erin laughed softly. “Definitely not. You stuffed both of us full of lasagna. And then cake.”
Her mother couldn’t hide her pleased look, almost smug. She enjoyed feeding people, and had especially liked the way Blake could pack it away. “I can give you the recipe.”
“The lasagna, yes. I don’t think I should bake that cake, not when Blake and I can eat almost the entire thing in one sitting.”
Her mother patted the cushion beside her. “Come sit then, if you’re having trouble sleeping.”
Erin sat down on the worn couch. She’d spent hours here, studying for a test or watching TV or reading quietly beside her mother. This couch was more her home than the city or the house ever had been. And so it gave her the strength to bring up the topic that had kept her awake.
“Mama, remember I told you that Blake is Senator Morris’s son.”
Her mother grew still. “Yes, I remember.”
“And I know you used to work for them once.”
“Yes.” The word came softer now. It sounded almost afraid, and Erin didn’t want to continue. She didn’t want to be the one to hurt her mother, but she couldn’t continue as if she didn’t know.
“Blake’s father told him that you two were… involved.”
A long silence with only the distant, muffled sound of a slamming car door to fill it. “That’s true,” her mother finally said. “I was young… not as young as you. But much more foolish than you.”
Erin frowned. “It’s not foolish to fall for someone, even if they’re not a good man. We can’t control who we love. You taught me that.”
“That’s right, but you should know, Jeb—Mr. Morris—was a good man. He just made a mistake. There’s a difference.”
“A mistake? He let you get thrown out. He didn’t defend you.”
“I didn’t mean that, sweetheart. I meant having an affair. He cheated on his wife. And even if he cared about me when he did it, that doesn’t make it right.”
Erin had a hard time sympathizing with the Ice Queen after their encounter, but she knew her mother was right. “I guess.”
“And I knew he was married too. I shouldn’t have gotten involved with him. I risked my job for that, and I lost it. I risked our family’s income and being able to care for you.” Her mother sighed, shaking her head. “Like I said, foolish.”
Erin took her hand. She knew how strong her mother was—cleaning houses was intense physical labor. And yet her mother’s hand felt small, almost frail. She squeezed.
John Warren, Libby Warren
F. Paul Wilson, Alan M. Clark