CHAPTER19
TANNER
When I had finally driven through the gates at the house, I heaved a sigh of relief. My day had been crappy so far, and getting stuck in traffic hadn’t made it any better. I was in such a bad mood that I’d almost used the pictures I had of this place to put it right back on the fucking market when one hour had turned into two on my way there.
If the insane jam hadn’t ended at the exact moment that I’d finally broken free of it, the house would’ve been listed already. Now that I was here, though, I was happy I hadn’t done it.
As shitty as my morning had been, it was like something released deep inside me when I drove down the patchy paving of the driveway. Like I could breathe again. Even my hangover felt better. Now, all I had to do was get off the phone with my mom, and maybe things would really start looking up.
On the other hand, maybe if I could’ve gone to see her in person, I would’ve been able to convince her of my take on things without being stuck in the same old argument we’d been having for months over the phone.
With my luck being the way it was today, however, I was meeting the interior designer at the new house and I had no idea how long it would take. I really wasn’t looking forward to it, but it had to be done and we’d had this meeting set up for over a week.
At least I won’t have to think much more about it after this.It was the silver lining in what had been a total shit show of a morning.
After taking Jeremiah’s advice last week, I’d hooked up with someone last night and had regretted it as soon as it had been over. I might even have regretted it before we’d even reached my place, but the tequila we’d been having at the club had thought it was a great idea, and so I’d ignored all rational thought even though I’d had to close my eyes and take Shawn’s suggestion just to get through it.
A wave of nausea rolled through me now at the mere thought of it. I shouldn’t have done it, but I’d thought I was doing the right thing by putting myself out there. It hadn’t been the right thing, not for the state of mind I was in at the moment. To make matters worse, although I’d been clear with her, as always, about it not meaning anything and that there was no future for us, it had still taken me forever to get her to leave earlier.
Then came the traffic, the prospect of spending the day with some person who I was supposed to trust with ripping apart my house, and now the phone call with my mother that really could’ve been going better.
“Mom, you can’t stay there,” I said again, rolling to a stop in front of the stairs leading up to the front door but not getting out yet. “The house is fifty years old and you’ve been living in it for almost forty of them. I know you raised me there and that it means a lot to you, but there’s a time to come and a time to go. This is the time to go.”
“Nonsense,” she snapped. “It’s my house and I’m not going anywhere. Where would I go?”
I sighed, dropping my head back against the headrest and closing my eyes. “We’ve been over this. I’ll find someplace awesome for you where you can get the care you need. The time has come, Mom. Even if it’s not here yet, it’s coming closer every day. You left the stove on last week and all the doors open just yesterday.”
“My memory is fine,” she snapped. “I didn’t forget the stove or the doors. I simply left them that way. I don’t need care, Tanner. Just like I don’t need you to pay for everything.”
“I don’t pay for everything,” I said calmly. “Dad paid off the house years ago. I’m only paying your day-to-day expenses. If you’d stop resisting me on moving to a place where you could be cared for, I’d pay for that, too. We could sell your house and you’d have that money to do with whatever you want. Please, Mom. Can I just take you to look at some places next week?”
“No,” she declared stubbornly. “I love you, Tanner, but no. Now, when will you be home? Dinner is at seven and your father will be furious if you miss it again. You and that Williams boy need to stop gallivanting all night when you have school in the morning. His parents may not care, but Mrs. Philips is worried about Bart, too. We realize that you’re seniors now, but you’re still living under our roofs. Bring Jeremiah with you if you must, but you’ll be home for dinner tonight.”
Yet another fissure opened in my heart. It killed me that she could be with me one moment and gone the next. The issues she’d been having with her memory were getting worse, but I didn’t have a formal diagnosis yet.
She had let me take her to the doctor exactly once, but legally, he hadn’t been allowed to tell me what was going on and she’d either forgotten what the result had been or she’d deliberately chosen not to share it with me. Which had been fine at the time, but now? She’s not doing so well anymore.
Sorrow and frustration wound together in my belly. My gaze caught on the time again and I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed the fact that I was over an hour away from her right then. “Look, Mom, I’ll be home as soon as I can, okay? You go ahead and have dinner without me tonight. I’ll be there if I can, but I don’t know how long this is going to take. I’m meeting with the interior designer, remember? I just bought that house and they need to get started with it as soon as possible if it’s ever going to get done.”
She kept quiet for a moment and then let out a burst of tinkling laughter. “Stop being ridiculous, Tanner. You haven’t bought a house. You’re seventeen, for heaven’s sake. Jeremiah’s daddy might’ve bought him another property to play with and you might be spending all your time there, but it’s not yours. We’re the other fellas, remember? Not the Rockefellers. Or the Williams family, for that matter.”
“Sure, Mom,” I said finally. “I remember. I’ll be home soon, okay? Like I said, though, don’t wait for me. You need to eat and I doubt I’ll be able to get there today. How about we do something tomorrow?”
“I’m making fried chicken tonight,” she said, and I groaned. Please let that be a product of her confusion and not the truth.
“Let’s forego the hot oil for today,” I said gently. “How about sticking one of those delicious pies in the oven? I left them for you last week. The chicken ones from Mrs. Ramirez.”
“Those are good,” she mused. “I’ll think about it. You just get home. I’ll have dinner ready. Bye, darling.”
“Bye, Mom.” I clutched my phone for a few more seconds after the call ended. Then I opened my texting app to send a quick message to her neighbor.
She always replied fast, and today was no exception. When I asked her to check in on my mom for me in about an hour, she sent me a thumbs-up and added a few more details about how Mom had been this week.
I was still texting with her when I walked in the front door, noticing a familiar-looking hybrid parked in front of it but not really paying much attention. Those things were everywhere these days, anyway. I’d probably just passed one on my way here.
As Mrs. Michael’s next message came through, I heard a soft, scuffing sound coming from the other end of the foyer. Fuck. I totally forgot the interior designer is probably already in here.
More irritation rolled through me, but then I looked up and it was like the entire world suddenly slammed to a halt. Like it had moved off its axis and just stopped.