“C’mon, Mom . . . no one understands better than you how hard it is to be a single parent.”
“And I thought I taught all of you not to do it.”
“Telling people not to have sex is like trying to hold back the tide. Zanya’s a smart girl, she’ll figure it out.”
“Zanya’s just a baby and trying hard to fall into my footsteps with the wrong choices. At least I was married to your father.”
This was not the defense Zoe expected from her mom. “Great help there! Nothing like getting your ass kicked weekly to remind you who to be loyal to.”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
Words died in Zoe’s mouth. How could she say that? “I was there, Mom. It was worse than bad. Zanya is better off on her own than hooking up with someone like Ziggy.” She didn’t honor the man by using the terms Dad or Father.
“At least he pulled in money sometimes.”
“Oh, my God! What the hell?” Blaze must have sensed the rising tension and started to fuss in Zoe’s lap. She didn’t know a lot about babies, but she had seen people bounce them on their knees, so she started to move her legs in an attempt to calm him.
It worked.
“He put you in the hospital more than once, Mom. None of us escaped his inability to hold his liquor.”
“I’m sure all those years in prison have taught him a lesson.”
Zoe felt her chest tighten. “What’s this all about? We haven’t talked about him in years.”
Sheryl turned her back to Zoe in the kitchen, fiddled with something she couldn’t see. “I don’t know. I think Blaze reminded me of when you kids were little. It’s either harder now to raise babies or it wasn’t that bad then.”
“Or maybe you’re just done playing mommy. It’s okay, ya know. You don’t have to take up where Zanya leaves off. It doesn’t make you a bad person or anything. Forgetting how bad it was when Ziggy was around is just stupid.”
“Are you calling me stupid?”
It always happened like this. They would be having a normal conversation, and when Zoe’s logic streamed into the conversation, Sheryl would somehow make it sound like Zoe was calling her names.
“No, Mom! I’m not calling you stupid.” Blind . . . forgetful . . . but not stupid.
“Not everyone has it as good as you do.”
Talk about a sucker punch to the chest.
Blaze started to cry.
“I work hard to have it good.” Like she needed to explain that.
“You cook.”
It was her turn to feel like crying.
An automatic swing Zoe had given as a gift to Zanya at her baby shower sat on the opposite side of the couch. Instead of continuing the pain, Zoe kissed her nephew and hooked him in. She turned the motion on and he instantly calmed.
Since sticking around was only going to result in a full-blown fight, Zoe grabbed her purse off the coffee table and hitched it high on her shoulder.
“Where are you going? You just got here.”
“I’m going to get some supplies for all that cooking I do.”
Sheryl stared in disapproval.
“The engagement party starts at five. By all means, bring Blaze. There are lots of hands to hold him and give you the break you obviously need.” With that, Zoe turned on her heel and let the door close behind her.
Instead of turning right out of the driveway, which would take her back to Miss Gina’s, she turned left and headed into town. She thought about stopping at the station to talk to Jo, but that wasn’t where she found consolation when it came to her mom. Yes, her BFFs listened, but it was always Luke who understood.
Miller’s Auto Repair had been a cornerstone in River Bend long before Zoe was born.
Mr. Miller was a robust man with a healthy laugh and loving smile. His size could scare a small child, but he was the biggest teddy bear she’d ever known. Mrs. Miller wasn’t a small woman either, but neither of them could be labeled as fat. She liked to cook and he liked to eat. It was a marriage made in heaven.
Zoe pulled into the drive and parked beside the only tow truck in town.
The heavy metal thumping inside the garage said Luke was around somewhere. When he wasn’t, Mr. Miller was prone to listening to country. The contrast between father and son always made her smile.
Motor oil and the smell of tires brought a flood of memories. She’d seen her share of the inside of garages in Dallas, but none smelled quite like Miller’s. There was an old pickup pulled inside with two feet sticking out from under it. Add a pair of ruby slippers and it might resemble an iconic movie. Nikes didn’t have the same effect.
Zoe walked inside and bent down to see who belonged to the shoes.
Sure enough, Luke lay on his back, his hands focused on something under the car, grease a part of his uniform. She allowed herself a brief moment of visual pleasure. Strong, lean body, muscles that rippled up his arms and across his chest. Even lying on his back, covered in grime, he was something to look at.
Luke must have felt the weight of her stare.
He didn’t jolt when he saw her, didn’t immediately scoot away from the car. He offered his seductive smile and said, “Hey.”
“Hey.”
He lifted a finger, indicating he needed a minute, and turned back to his work.
Zoe rose to her full height and glanced around the garage. She was about to lean on the bench when Mr. Miller poked his head around the corner. “Hey, Luke . . . whose car is in the—” He stopped talking when he saw her. “Well, look who is back in town!”
Mr. Miller opened his arms and Zoe half ran into them.
He lifted her off her feet and spun her in a full circle before setting her down.
He did a quick once-over and said, “Goodness, girl, do you ever eat what you prepare?”
She slapped a playful hand on his chest. “Good to see you, too.”
He hugged her a second time while Luke slid out from under the car. “Do I get one of those?” he asked, his arms opened for her to step into them.
“How dirty are those hands?” she asked, not because she cared but because that had been what she’d said all the time when they were in high school.
Luke’s playful smile matched his father’s. “C’mere.”
She did. And when he hugged her close, she didn’t feel the need to giggle and scream, she felt the need to sigh.
“I missed you,” he said close to her ear so only she could hear.
Before she could tell him she felt the same, he pulled away and looked past her smile. “Is everything okay?”
He could always read her. “I had a fight with my mom,” she whispered.
His firm hands gave her a reassuring squeeze before dropping to his sides. “Give me a minute to wash up.”
“Okay.”
Luke walked into the back of the shop, leaving her with his dad.
“Luke says you’re buying a house in Dallas.” He turned down the music as he talked.
“If I can ever find something that works.”
“Don’t all houses work?”
“Let me rephrase . . . if I find something that fits what I want.”
Mr. Miller narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess, big kitchen.”
“A must!”
“Not too close to your neighbors.”
“That would be nice,” she said.
“Room for an herb garden?”
She hadn’t thought of that . . . but yeah. Zoe nodded.