The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) by R.C. Martin

no idea I currently require.
     
    Me: I love you, too.

    It ’ s still early, five o ’ clock, when we pull into the driveway. My parents have lived in the same house since my freshman year of high school. Dad is a settler — not in the sense that he accepts less than he should, but in the sense that he likes to plant roots. His parents were in the military, which had him moving all over the place growing up, like Grayson. I know my grandpa wanted him to follow in his footsteps and enlist in the Air Force, but that just wasn ’ t my dad. Instead, he stopped the last place my grandparents stopped — Colorado. He went to college, met my mom, got a great job in advertising, had twin girls, and settled .
    My mom is kind of the opposite. She ’ s an explorer, which is why every year for as long as I can remember, we go on family trips. We ’ ve been to Europe, South America, Canada and all over the United States. Avery and I are quite well-traveled, if I do say so myself. While my mom likes to travel and discover new things, she ’ s also a homemaker — which is the part of her that enables her to be a wife and a mother, tied down to her family but with little complaint. I also think that ’ s part of the reason why she ’ s a teacher. She teaches high school choir and I know that she ’ s got a reputation for being that teacher that ’ s practically a second mom to her kids from year to year. It ’ s just who she is.
    I hope my students will love me like hers love her.
    I notice, as we make our way inside, that dad ’ s car is gone; but when we walk in, I smell dinner right away. Avery and I both head straight for the kitchen, assuming that ’ s where we ’ ll find mom. We assume correctly.
    Mom ’ s taller than us by a couple inches, but she ’ s still petite like we are. Her straight black hair is streaked with gray and cut into an asymmetrical bob. When she hears us enter the kitchen, she turns and greets us first with her eyes. Their tilted teardrop shape mixed with the way her cheeks perk up when she grins, makes her dark brown eyes all but disappear as she giggles. “ My girls made it! ”
    “ Hey, mom, ” Avery and I say in unison. We both go in for a hug and she accepts us together, one arm wrapped around each of us.
    “ How was your drive? ” she asks as she pulls away.
    “ Not bad. There was a little traffic, but nothing too crazy, ” Avery answers as she reaches up to tighten her ponytail. “ Where ’ s daddy? ”
    “ I sent him to the store, ” mom says as she turns to resume the task she was busy with when we arrived. “ I needed a couple things to round out dinner. He should be back any minute. ”
    “ What are you making? ” I ask, peeking over her shoulder.
    “ Mediterranean. ” Just like always, my mom answers my what with a where. We ’ ve always known dinner by culture or region, not by dish. It was confusing when we were younger, but we ’ ve all managed to catch on.
    “ When do you think it ’ ll be ready? ” asks Avery.
    “ My, my — someone is hungry, ” mom says with a smile over her shoulder.
    “ Actually, I was thinking it might be nice to head out for a quick run before dinner. I feel like a slug after being in the car for the last couple of hours. Do I have time? ”
    “ Oh, sure. Just be ready to sit down in about an hour. ”
    “ Awesome. ” She ’ s gone in a flash and I can ’ t help but smile. No one should ever be that excited about running.
    “ You don ’ t have to stick around for me, Addie Jane. If you need to go freshen up, we ’ ll have plenty of time to catch up later. ”
    I think about it for only a second and then I realize that this might be the only time all weekend that I have my mother to myself. I hadn ’ t planned on walking in and dumping my Beckham worries in her lap, but who am I kidding? I won ’ t really be able to focus wholeheartedly on anything else until I ’ ve had the chance to speak with her. Now is as good a time as