Page 57 of Shelter
I stood beside her as she wiped away the tear tracks and smoothed her hair.
“How do I look?” she asked, giving me a nervous smile that scraped my heart.
“You’re beautiful, Mom.” I wanted her to know it. She was. Inside and out. She didn’t need my father to give her value. Maybe in the weeks and months ahead, I could help her see that.
Mom turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes looked misty, and I hoped she wouldn’t cry again.
“You and Ava are the best things I’ve ever done. I’m so proud of you.” She brushed her fingers over the fabric of my suit, sweeping away invisible lint.
I knew for her this was affection. How can you hug your son with broken ribs? How can you pull him into your lap with your shoulder out of joint? I pressed a kiss to her cheek, giving her all she could accept from me.
Maybe this was something we could change too in the days ahead.
“Ready?” I asked.
She nodded, her eyes going wider. “I’d better go out first.”
“You should go find a place to sit down.”
Mom shook her head. “No. I think I’m better off standing. I won’t be able to get up and down to tell all the guests goodbye.”
“Mom…” I wanted to growl. I wanted to rage. Neither would do any good right now.
She patted my arm. “It’s alright. It’ll just be a little longer.”
I held her gaze for a moment. She looked composed. She looked beautiful. This was her talent. She could give perfection a run for its money. My father had never managed to take that from her. And I wouldn’t try now.
“I’ll go talk to Ava and take care of a few things, and then I’ll come stand with you. If you need to, you can lean on me.”
Mom gave my arm a squeeze. “I always lean on you, Coleman.”
I opened the door for her and watched her slip from the bathroom. She moved slowly, perhaps, but her steps were graceful. She kept all the agony close. Like always.
* * *
Ava had doneneither of the things I expected her to do when she heard we were leaving. She hadn’t fought me, and she hadn’t cried. She had, however, gone white at the news that our father had hurt Mom again. She’d agreed when I told her to pack a bag as soon as the guests left and wait, dressed and ready to go, in her room. I’d send her down to the car when it was time.
I’d pulled her into the hall off the laundry room, and once we were square, I sent her to stand by Mom while I went in search of Elise. The party was winding down, and I found her busing dishes on yet another tray.
I was beginning to hate those fucking trays.
“Put that down and meet me in the side hallway.”
As she’d cleared a high table in the front hall, I’d approached her from behind and whispered these instructions, claiming for myself one last chance to view the back of that green dress up close. Given my night’s mission, the contrast of lace and skin should have been the last thing on my mind, but its temptation only seemed stronger to me now. Now that I didn’t know when I would see her again.
She gave no sign that she’d heard me, but Elise didn’t leave me waiting long. A minute later, she’d found me in the hall that led to our garage, her brows drawn together in worry.
“How’s your mom?” she whispered.
I shook my head. “We need to leave. It’s time I took care of this.”
Her eyes rounded. “Took care of this?”
“Yeah. Get Mom and Ava to safety. Have him arrested. Get a restraining order.” I counted off these tasks on my fingers. “If I can manage it, get her to legally separate. But I don’t know if I that’s gonna happen.”
Before me, Elise sagged on an exhale. “Oh, thank God,” she murmured.
“What?” I asked, frowning.
