Trace + Olivia Series Boxed Set (27 page)

“I’m not mad at you,” I stated, drenching my waffle in syrup. “I want you to know that.”

My mom looked up from her plate of food, studying my face. When she found that I was telling the truth, she let out a sigh of relief.

“I know I should have told you the truth a long time ago…it never seemed like the right time though,” she shrugged and took a bite of her egg sandwich.

After a lengthy discussion about where to eat for lunch, we ended up deciding on Waffle House.

“I’m glad you waited to tell me. I don’t think I would’ve handled it well if you told me sooner. It’s been hard to process now, it would’ve been even worse if I was younger.” My eyes strayed to my purse where I had placed the pictures of Derek. I wanted to keep them with me at all times. I think I was afraid that if they were separated from me for too long, they’d disappear. “Can you tell me more about him?”

I hadn’t wanted to listen when she first told me, but now, I was ready to know more about my real dad.

“I don’t know where to start,” she took a sip of water.

“Start wherever you want,” I told her.

She grew quiet as she thought. “He loved to be outside,” she smiled, her eyes far away. “I can’t begin to tell you how many times I found him outside the library, stretched out on one of those small benches, with a book in his hand. He was a serious student, but he was funny, the kind of guy that was always cracking a joke. He loved his family and friends, to the point that he was almost loyal to a fault. But I loved that about him. He would have been the greatest father to you, Liv, and I’m so sorry,” her eyes watered and she reached for my hand, “that you missed out on that, sweetie.”

I swallowed thickly, wondering if I would have made Derek Wynn proud. Would I have been enough for him?

“Do you think Aaron will try to find you?” I whispered.

She released my hand and sat back, staring out the window at the traffic going by. “I honestly don’t know. He’s…unpredictable.”

I really didn’t think Aaron would try to find her, but I still worried.

“
Please
, if he finds you, don’t let him take you from me, again,” I begged.

“Never,” she answered fiercely. “I’ll never go back to that, Liv. I would rather have
nothing
than live with that man. I wish I would’ve left sooner, but I didn’t think I could. I was scared. But now that I’m gone, nothing will ever send me back. I can promise you that.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief.

She continued, “As soon as I get a job, and find a place of my own, I’ve decided to file for divorce.”

My eyes widened. “I don’t want anything tying me to him. Especially, a marriage,” she removed her wedding band to drive home her point. “It’s time for me to move on and live my life.”

“I’ll be here every step of the way,” I assured her. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

She smiled, tears glassing over her eyes once more. “I know I haven’t been the best mom and that I should have stopped Aaron. I shouldn’t have let…I shouldn’t,” she grabbed a napkin and wiped her tears away. “I shouldn’t have let him hurt you like he did. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough for you. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you.”

“Mom,” I said fiercely, “there’s nothing to make up for. I
understand
. I was scared of him too. I know he treated you worse than he did me. This isn’t your fault. I’m happy you’re out of that house now. I promise you, there’s nothing you need to make up for. You’re my mom, you always have been, and you always will be.”

We stared at each other for a moment, and I expected her to say something serious, but instead, she cracked a smile and asked, “So, when do I get to meet this guy of yours?”

“You want me to meet your mom?” Trace asked incredulously over the phone.

I coughed into the phone trying to hide my discomfort. “She wants to meet you.”

He sighed. “It’s been a long time since I did the whole, meet the parents thing, but for you, I will.”

I bristled, knowing he was referring to his ex, Aubrey.

“I’m sorry, I hate asking you, but she keeps bugging me about it,” I grumbled, tugging on the strands of my hair.

For the past two days, she had asked me incessantly about Trace. I knew I couldn’t put off this meet and greet forever, and preferred to get it over and done with.

“Don’t apologize,” he replied. “It’s not that I don’t want to meet your mom, I’m just not very good at this. I know what kind of house you grew up in…is she going to think I’m some tattooed criminal or something?” He sounded insecure.

I snickered. “That was my dad—er Aaron—that’s like that. Not my mom. She’ll like you, I promise.”

“Alright,” he mumbled and I heard the sounds of him pacing as his shoes shuffled along the carpet of his bedroom. “When am I supposed to meet her?”

I coughed again. “Tonight,” I squeaked.

“Olivia,” he groaned and I was sure he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t a lot of notice.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” I bit my thumbnail.

“What time do you need me to be there?” He asked, sounding resigned.

“Is five o’ clock okay?” I suggested. That gave him three hours to get ready and pep talk himself.

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Where do I need to meet you guys?”

“Avery’s house,” I answered, rattling off directions. “She’ll be gone tonight and so will her brother. My mom wants to cook.”

“Sounds good,” he sighed. “I know I don’t sound happy, but I’m really nervous.”

“It’s fine. I totally understand. I wouldn’t be too happy if you sprung something like this on me,” I told him.

“I’ll see you tonight. And Olivia?”

“Yeah,” I replied reluctantly.

“You owe me big time.”

The doorbell rang and I ran out of the kitchen like my butt was on fire.

I had been pacing the length of the kitchen for a solid twenty minutes as I waited for Trace to arrive. My mom continued to cook, pretending she didn’t notice me nervously walking back and forth.

I swung the door open and forced a smile.

Trace was freshly shaved with his dark hair brushed back and a beanie on top of his head. He wore a dark pair of jeans and a tight white V-neck shirt, with a long sleeve button down yellow and black plaid shirt on top. His leather jacket and boots completed the look.

“Hey,” he grinned. “I’m sorry about the way I acted earlier on the phone,” he pulled a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and handed them to me. “Forgive me?”

I narrowed my eyes, making him sweat it a bit longer. “Are flowers supposed to make me feel better?”

“Well, no,” he squirmed.

“I’m kidding,” I smiled genuinely this time. “They’re beautiful,” I inhaled the fresh scent. “Get inside, it’s starting to snow,” I opened the door wider.

He stepped inside and I saw that he had a similar bouquet clasped in his other hand. “For your mom,” he explained at my staring.

“Oh,” I nodded, “that was nice of you.”

He chuckled. “I
am
a nice guy.”

I rolled my eyes, closing and locking the door.

He took a deep breath and removed his beanie. I could tell he was nervous and trying to lighten the mood.

“It’ll be fine,” I stood on my tiptoes to place a light kiss on his lips.

He kissed me back and grinned fully when I pulled away.

I took his hand and led him into the kitchen.

My mom’s back was to us. She hummed as she stirred a pot on the stove and then wiped her hands on her apron.

I cleared my throat and she turned around. “Mom, this is Trace. Trace, this is my mom.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Owens,” Trace let go of my hand and reached out to shake my mom’s.

She surprised him by reaching up and giving him a hug. “Please, call me Nora.”

“Nora,” he smiled, “these are for you.”

She smiled as she gazed at the flowers in his hand. She took them from him. “These are lovely. Thank you. Olivia, why don’t you look around and see if you can find two vases,” she eyed the bouquet in my hand.

I looked around at all the cabinets and grumbled, “Where do I even start looking?”

Ten minutes later, I gave up on locating a vase, and stuck the flower arrangements in regular drinking glasses. Problem solved.

Trace was helping my mom set the table, when I placed the flowers in their makeshift vases, at the center of the table.

“Nice,” Trace snorted, looking at the drinking glass vases.

“Sometimes, you have to be resourceful,” I laughed.

Once all the food was on the table, we sat down to eat. My mom sat across from Trace and me.

My mom had made a batch of her cheesy potatoes, my favorite, among several other side dishes, and she had grilled steaks since the Callahan’s had one of those fancy indoor grills.

“This is fantastic,” Trace told her.

“Thank you,” she smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Do you cook?”

“I love to cook,” he grinned.

“Really?” Her eyes widened. “That’s nice to hear.” Turning to me, she whispered under her breath, “He’s a keeper.”

“Mom,” I grumbled.

Trace chuckled, eyeing me over his glass of ice water, and I knew he had heard her.

“So,” she continued, “what do you like to cook, Trace?”

He shrugged. “All kinds of things. My mom made sure that my brother and I could cook for ourselves, do laundry, and all kinds of domestic things. She didn’t want us to be clueless.”

“Your mom sounds like a wonderful person,” she commented.

Trace beamed. “She’s the greatest. I don’t know what I would do without her and my grandparents. Family is everything.”

My heart soared at his words.

That was one of my favorite things about Trace, he cared deeply for his family, and wasn’t afraid to express that.

“Maybe I’ll get to meet them one day,” she looked between the two of us.

“Mom, please,” I hissed. If I didn’t watch her, she’d be asking Trace to propose before he left.

“Sorry,” she chuckled, “I’m getting a bit carried away.”

“Yeah, you are,” I agreed.

“Olivia,” Trace reached for my hand under the table, “it’s fine. I would love for my family to meet you,” he looked at my mom, turning back to me, he added, “but I would like for Olivia to meet them first.”

Oh, crap.

The color drained from my face.

Me, meet Trace’s family?

Trace chuckled huskily and whispered in my ear, “It’s payback time…not really though, they’ll love you.”

His words did nothing to comfort me. I had never met a guy’s family before.

My chest felt tight and I idly wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like.

He laughed again before pulling away.

“I think it would be nice for Liv to meet your parent’s,” my mom spoke to Trace. “After all, you’ve met me, it only seems fair,” she smirked at me.

Who was this woman? She certainly wasn’t the meek mother I was used to.

I cleared my throat and forced a bite of potato into my mouth. Swallowing, I asked, “When exactly would this be?”

Trace stretched an arm across the back of my chair, his early nerves about meeting my mom, completely gone. Now,
I
was the nervous one.

“Hmmm,” he tapped his stubbled chin and pretended to think. “Soon, I think. They live in the area.”

“That sounds…wonderful,” I swallowed a gulp of water. Actually, a lobotomy sounded less frightening than meeting Trace’s family. I was beginning to regret caving to my mom and inviting him to meet her. This was causing
me
nothing but trouble.

“Don’t be worried,” he winked and gave my shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m not,” I squeaked.

“You should know by now,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from my shoulder, “that you can’t lie to me.”

I completely forgot that my mom was sitting at the table with us and blurted, “You were nervous to meet my
mom!
Now, you want me to meet your whole family!”

He chuckled. “It would only be my mom, brother, and my grandparents.”

“And I only asked you to meet my mom! One person, not four!” I cried.

My mom laughed and scolded, “Stop freaking out, Liv. Your shyness will only get you in trouble.”