Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Yeah. Talk to me about something. Anything.”
She rolled her eyes. “You started it. Now pull yourself together.” With a wink and a laugh, she drew her shoulders back and headed to greet his mother.
* * *
Grey’s mother met him on the front porch and hugged him tight, the familiar smell of her perfume wrapping around him. His mother had always been petite, five foot two, and when she hugged him, he towered over her. But that didn’t make the strength of her hugs any less potent, and a lump formed in his throat.
“My baby boy.”
Though he was slightly embarrassed at her word choice, he was also close to a complete breakdown at how easily she welcomed him home, no questions asked.
“Hi, Mom,” he said, finally extricating himself from her embrace and taking her in.
She’d aged well, her skin still nearly flawless and the lines in her face minimal. Her hair was still dark, no gray, and she was clearly relaxed and happy. Life obviously agreed with her.
She grasped his hands in her weathered, work-worn ones. “Let me look at you.”
Grey shot Avery an amused glance, and she grinned back at him.
“Hush,” his mother said. “I’ll get to her next. Humor me.” She looked him over thoroughly and said, “You need to eat.”
Avery burst out laughing, redrawing his mother’s attention to her.
“It’s so good to see you again!” His mom kissed Avery’s cheek. “Thank you for bringing my boy home.”
Avery’s eyes grew wide, and distress flashed over her face. “No, I didn’t. This was all him.”
Grey’s mother pinned Avery with a knowing stare, one Grey had been treated to many times growing up. “A mother knows. He came home for you.”
“Mrs. Mendez,” Avery began.
“Susie. You always called me by my first name, remember?”
“Susie.” Avery’s smile grew more genuine. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers. I didn’t have anything to do with breaking up the band,” she rushed to assure his mother.
As if his mom cared one bit whether or not Tangled Royal existed as long as Grey was happy.
“Those rags,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“This one was reputable, but they still got it wrong,” Avery said.
“Doesn’t matter. I always knew you two were meant to be.”
“Mom, let’s go inside,” Grey said before she could spook Avery any more.
As Grey walked into the house, he was struck by the memories that assaulted him. The scent was familiar, as his mom’s perfume lingered. And the pictures on the walls, the pieces on the shelves, the furniture in the living room were all equally familiar. They’d allowed him to buy the house, but they’d kept the old furniture. Some of the pieces were refurbished, but Ricardo always had a talented hand, and Grey felt certain he’d done the work himself.
Instead of frustration, a sense of pride welled up in him for both his mom and stepdad. “Is Ricardo home?”
“He’s out back. Why don’t you go help him with the grill, and Avery and I will go into the kitchen.” Grey glanced at Avery, but she was already following his mother into the kitchen.
Grey found his stepfather outside on the patio.
“Grey!” Ricardo, a tall, slender man with salt-and-pepper hair, stepped over and pulled him into a one-armed hug, patting him on the back. “It’s good to see you.”
“Same,” Grey said.
“Your mother is over the moon. She’s so happy you’re here.”
Grey did his best not to squirm. Though he knew his stepdad wasn’t trying to make him feel bad or uncomfortable, he did. There were still things that needed to be said between them.
“So tell me how things are going for you,” Ricardo said. “Is the band really splitting up?”
Grey nodded. “We reached the end. It’s hard to explain, but we’re all ready to do our own thing.”
Ricardo reached into a cooler and pulled out two beers, handing one to Grey. They popped the tops, and he took a long, cool drink.
“I can understand that. You should be proud though. You went out and accomplished your dream. Not many people can say they did that.”
Warmth filled Grey’s chest as Ricardo gave him the words his own father had always denied him. “Thank you,” he said, infusing his tone with emotion and meaning. “So how are you? How’s Mom?”
“Living the good life, thanks to you.” He gestured to the backyard with the nice-size patio, a pool on the side with a spa. Over to the side, there was a barbecue built into a stone wall. “Put this in myself,” he said with pride.
Grey grinned. “The house looks fantastic.”
“I’m glad you pushed us to move. Your mother is so much happier here. Good neighborhood, nice friends. Thank you,” he said, not for the first time.
Grey shook his head. “Don’t. Don’t thank me. I’m glad you’re happy. It’s all I wanted, but back then I wanted . . .” He trailed off, the words sticking in his throat.