Georgie tapped her fingers on the countertop.
“I . . . just tell Sam that he’s bigger than his urges, and sometimes he listens and stops,” she said pleasantly.
“But how do you deal with it when it makes you angry? Like if he’s neglecting you in favor of an urge? Or if the compulsion causes a lot of tension? I just want to better prepare.”
“Neglect me?” Georgie asked.
“Well, you mentioned the model boat,” Reece pointed out.
“Samuel’s boat has nothing to do with his OCD. And we really haven’t come up against too many major problems in our marriage. I just have to understand that he is who he is.” She smiled again. This time it wasn’t sickly sweet. This time it was pissy.
“That’s it?” Reece asked.
Silence. Georgie looked like she was battling the urge to explode—to admit the truth that would ease her conscience and destroy her daughter’s relationship.
“Reece, what do you want me to tell you?” she said suddenly. “You want me to tell you to run for the hills? Hmm? Because I’ve thought about doing that a dozen times in my marriage! It’s a nightmare sometimes. A nightmare!”
Reece reared back.
“It’s not their fault, but can you imagine what it’s like to be neglected for a schedule? Or waiting in a store parking lot for your husband who must touch all the light poles before going home? Or being late for an event because he has to circle the neighborhood two times at fifteen miles per hour?!”
Reece’s eyes bugged.
“They think they’re trapped in their compulsions?! They don’t even consider us and what we have to deal with. We’re just as trapped, and our cage is far worse because we don’t have to be there. We could walk away. Sometimes I wish I would have walked away thirty years ago. And then at twenty. And then yesterday!”
“Mom?” Nicki said, rounding the corner.
“What?” she cried, throwing up her hands. “Reece wanted to know!”
“Mom, Reece doesn’t want to hear all about Dad’s OCD. And anyway, it’s not that bad,” Nicki replied.
Georgie burst out laughing.
Nicki and Reece stared at one another.
“Why did you bring it up?” Nicki hissed, staring at Reece through accusatory eyes.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted some advice.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“From someone on the other side,” he added. It was lame, and he really hated himself for saying anything.
Georgie took a deep breath and shook her head.
“I’m glad you asked, Reece. I’m glad. We shouldn’t keep this shit in the dark.”
“Mother!”
“Oh Nicki, hush up.” And then she turned to Reece. “So you caught on to the big dessert time show, huh?”
Reece shrugged.
Georgie snorted. “Thought so. Here’s the deal: My daughter can’t keep a man to save her life. What mother wants to tell the truth about her to her current boyfriend? We’re all over here on our hands and knees praying to God that you’ll hold on. That you’ll be the one who’s strong enough to deal with all her bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit,” Reece whispered.
“It’s bullshit, honey. And you’ll find out soon enough. We’re not gonna bet on seeing you the next time, but we sure as hell hope we will. Because I like you, Reece. I like your openness. Yes, you pissed me off for a second with all your prying, but I understand now that it’s coming from a good place. You just wanna be the best boyfriend you can be. Is that right?”
He nodded. He didn’t much care for this woman at the moment.
“I thought so. So here’s my advice: Don’t expect too much.”
No one moved. No one said a word. They saw her standing in the doorway, listening to her mother’s advice—the mother who wanted another baby when she discovered Bailey’s problem. The mother who clung to Nicki as her hope for success. The mother whose difficult marriage twisted her heart into bitter sarcasm, transforming what was a lovely evening into a nightmare.
Georgie looked over and shook her head. “Bailey, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
But Bailey was already walking out the door.
“Baby love?” Reece asked tentatively. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing Bailey’s back as she lay curled in a fetal position, crying.
“I’m fine,” she choked.
“I love you,” he said.
“Thank you.”
He wasn’t expecting that response. He was expecting the obligatory “I love you” in return, but he decided he liked “thank you” better. It seemed to fit the occasion.
“Your mother’s advice sucked big time,” he went on.
Bailey sniffed.
“I expect the world from you, as I should, because you’re amazing and talented and funny and sweet. You’re sexy as hell and clever and smart and capable of so many things. So yeah. I expect a hell of a lot from you. And I also expect that you can be successful in managing your OCD. I’m proud of you, Bailey.”
She nodded and wiped her face.
“I wish she would just love me and be nice to me,” she whispered.
“I know she loves you,” Reece replied. “She just snapped tonight. And it’s my fault. I thought I was doing the right thing by asking for advice. I thought she could help me out, you know?”
Bailey said nothing. Reece lay down beside her and gathered her in his arms.
“Beboppin’ Bailey,” he whispered.
She chuckled.
“Better Than All the Rest Bailey.”
She nuzzled his neck.
“Best Decision I Ever Made Bailey.”
“Oh, stop it,” she said.
“Bet on That Girl Bailey.” He kissed her forehead. “I have about a trillion more. We’re gonna be here a while.”
She giggled, then drifted to sleep to the sound of his words.
“Beat the Odds Bailey . . . Bait Me with a Kiss Bailey . . . Because I Love Her Bailey . . .
Because I love her . . .
***
She tried to forget Camden’s comment. She wished Reece had never told her. She traced the weaving lines of her cable knit sweater with her forefinger until Reece took her hand. He brought her palm to his lips and kissed it.
“Why are you nervous? It’s just Camden,” Reece said.