Page 10 of Make It Last

Tanner

Groceries

“Hey, Mom,” I called as I nudged the front door open, grocery bags looped over both arms.

“Tanner,” she said, stepping through the archway from the living room into the kitchen. “You didn’t have to do my shopping.”

“Mom, I don’t mind. I was at the store anyway.”

She pressed her lips together, exasperation flickering in her gaze. “Seriously?”

I chuckled. “Seriously. How are you?” I walked past her to set the bags on the kitchen island.

“I’m fine. Remind me why you did this again?”

“I just told you. Because I was there.”

She shook her head and let out a soft sigh. “Thank you. But next week, I’m getting your groceries.”

She all but shoved me out of the way and started unloading the bags herself.

“You know I can help,” I offered. Reaching to her side, she thrust a mug of coffee into my hand.

I took a swallow. “It’s delicious.”

“I need to head into work soon, but can we just have a quick conversation?”

“I think we are,” I said dryly.

One brow arched as she glanced toward me. “Ever since your father passed, you’ve treated me like a child.”

“I’m not treating you like a child.”

“Okay, maybe not like a child. But this—grocery shopping, shoveling my steps, plowing my driveway?—”

I cut in. “Mom, I was already plowing your driveway before Dad passed. You live right down the road, and I have a plow.”

She sighed. “I know. I’m just saying, I love you. You take good care of me.”

“You still take care of me, for the record.”

She closed the refrigerator and turned to face me. “You’re the best son I could’ve imagined raising. I love that you care, and that you worry, and that you look after me… but Tanner, you could take care of a partner too.” She circled a hand in the air. “I don’t know. Crazy idea.”

I tried not to let her words sting, but they did. Just a little. I was over my ex-fiancé. I didn’t miss her, not in the way that made me want her back. But I hadn’t forgotten what she said when she left.

“I’m not avoiding a relationship, Mom,” I said, lying through my teeth. It was more that I’d let the idea go completely.

She rolled her eyes. “I love you.” She stepped closer and patted me on the shoulder. “But next time you’re at the grocery store, you don’t need to shop for me.”

“Okay. I won’t.” I shrugged.

She rolled her eyes even harder and headed for the door. “I’m off to work.”

“Right behind you. I’m headed to the hospital myself.”

“You are?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Since when do you work at the hospital?”

“I don’t. We’ve got our annual CPR training.”