think you don’t need anybody—especially me.” The hurt look was back. “But honey, we all need looking after now and then. I can’t imaginewhat it must feel like to... to do what you did today. I only know it can’t feel good.”
Angel swallowed the new lump forming in her throat and looked away.
“There are times,” her mother went on, “no matter how grown up we are, that we need someone to look after us. That’s all I’m doing, honey. Looking after you.” She pulled a wooden spoon out of the plastic utensil holder next to the stove and poked at the frozen soup, then added a little water and stirred.
Angel rubbed her forehead. Why was it that just being around her mother for more than a few minutes turned her back into a kid? She had no energy left for arguing with the woman. And what would it accomplish, anyway? More hurt feelings?
You’ll never be able to change your mother, and if you could, would you want to? Besides, who’s to say she isn’t right ?
The food looked and smelled great. Angel opened another small plastic container filled with gooey chocolate frosting and pulled a butter knife out of the utensil drawer.
“What? You aren’t going to argue with me?” Anna set the spoon on the ceramic spoon rest.
“Would it do any good?” The corners of Angel’s mouth turned up in a reluctant smile.
“Probably not.” She leaned over and kissed Angel’s cheek. “Sometimes your mama does know what’s best.”
Angel dumped the entire container of frosting onto the middle of the cake and began spreading across the surface while her mother cut into a crusty loaf of French bread. The warm sourdough scent made her mouth water. “Did you bake bread this morning too? I’m going to have to start calling you Martha.”
Anna chuckled. “I’m not that efficient. I picked it up at the bakery on my way over.”
Angel made one more pass over the glazed cake. Then, making sure she had ample frosting on the knife, she licked it clean. She stuck the knife in the sink, thinking she should probably finish helping her mother, but any energy she’d had seemed to drain right down her legs, leaving them weak and shaky. Angel managed to make it to the sofa, where she collapsed and closed her eyes.
“Your lunch is ready,” Anna said a few minutes later. She had set a place for one at the counter, complete with a place mat and a vase full of cut flowers.
Angel padded into the kitchen and leaned over and smelled the flowers. “These are nice. Thanks.”
“I picked those up at the market too.” Anna slipped her purse strap over her shoulder. “Enjoy. I’ll see you later.”
“You’re not staying to eat with me?” Angel surprised herself with the question.
“Can’t. Have to get home and fix dinner. Tim and Susan are coming over with the kids tonight. I promised Tim I’d make pot roast.”
“Yum.”
“You can come too. There’s always room.”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel much like going anywhere. Brandon wants to take me out to dinner, but...”
“Good. You should go. It will do you good to get out.”
Angel braced herself for the Brandon lecture—the one where her mother told her she and Brandon should get married and have babies. But the lecture didn’t come. Instead, Anna gave her a peck on the cheek, waved a good-bye from the door, and left.
“You’re slipping, Ma,” Angel said to the closed door.
So she gave herself the lecture while she ate. She had known Brandon Lafferty since high school, and they had dated off and on since then. Brandon had been her best boy friend without actually being her boyfriend. Everyone thought they’d get married, but Brandon went off to law school and Angel became a cop and moved to Florida. When Angel came back to Sunset Cove, they picked up where they had left off. While Brandon clearly wanted their relationship to progress, marriage and babies seemed as far off to Angel as it had back in high school.
She turned back to the soup and
Angel swallowed the new lump forming in her throat and looked away.
“There are times,” her mother went on, “no matter how grown up we are, that we need someone to look after us. That’s all I’m doing, honey. Looking after you.” She pulled a wooden spoon out of the plastic utensil holder next to the stove and poked at the frozen soup, then added a little water and stirred.
Angel rubbed her forehead. Why was it that just being around her mother for more than a few minutes turned her back into a kid? She had no energy left for arguing with the woman. And what would it accomplish, anyway? More hurt feelings?
You’ll never be able to change your mother, and if you could, would you want to? Besides, who’s to say she isn’t right ?
The food looked and smelled great. Angel opened another small plastic container filled with gooey chocolate frosting and pulled a butter knife out of the utensil drawer.
“What? You aren’t going to argue with me?” Anna set the spoon on the ceramic spoon rest.
“Would it do any good?” The corners of Angel’s mouth turned up in a reluctant smile.
“Probably not.” She leaned over and kissed Angel’s cheek. “Sometimes your mama does know what’s best.”
Angel dumped the entire container of frosting onto the middle of the cake and began spreading across the surface while her mother cut into a crusty loaf of French bread. The warm sourdough scent made her mouth water. “Did you bake bread this morning too? I’m going to have to start calling you Martha.”
Anna chuckled. “I’m not that efficient. I picked it up at the bakery on my way over.”
Angel made one more pass over the glazed cake. Then, making sure she had ample frosting on the knife, she licked it clean. She stuck the knife in the sink, thinking she should probably finish helping her mother, but any energy she’d had seemed to drain right down her legs, leaving them weak and shaky. Angel managed to make it to the sofa, where she collapsed and closed her eyes.
“Your lunch is ready,” Anna said a few minutes later. She had set a place for one at the counter, complete with a place mat and a vase full of cut flowers.
Angel padded into the kitchen and leaned over and smelled the flowers. “These are nice. Thanks.”
“I picked those up at the market too.” Anna slipped her purse strap over her shoulder. “Enjoy. I’ll see you later.”
“You’re not staying to eat with me?” Angel surprised herself with the question.
“Can’t. Have to get home and fix dinner. Tim and Susan are coming over with the kids tonight. I promised Tim I’d make pot roast.”
“Yum.”
“You can come too. There’s always room.”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel much like going anywhere. Brandon wants to take me out to dinner, but...”
“Good. You should go. It will do you good to get out.”
Angel braced herself for the Brandon lecture—the one where her mother told her she and Brandon should get married and have babies. But the lecture didn’t come. Instead, Anna gave her a peck on the cheek, waved a good-bye from the door, and left.
“You’re slipping, Ma,” Angel said to the closed door.
So she gave herself the lecture while she ate. She had known Brandon Lafferty since high school, and they had dated off and on since then. Brandon had been her best boy friend without actually being her boyfriend. Everyone thought they’d get married, but Brandon went off to law school and Angel became a cop and moved to Florida. When Angel came back to Sunset Cove, they picked up where they had left off. While Brandon clearly wanted their relationship to progress, marriage and babies seemed as far off to Angel as it had back in high school.
She turned back to the soup and
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