Choosing Henley(26)

I look over at Jami and glare. “You conned me,” I hiss.

“You lied to me,” he counters. “Looks like we’re even, Beatle.” He winks before following my mom into the house. Son of a bitch.

I walk inside, shutting the heavy, wood door behind me and sigh. I can hear Mom and Jami talking from somewhere inside the house, presumably the kitchen and let my head fall back against the closed door. How did I get here? I’m mentally running over everything that happened today. I went from starting off the day with wanting to avoid spending too much time with Jami, to eating dinner with him at my mother’s house. What the hell?

I’ve been pursued by men before, sure. But this is something entirely different. He will not ease up. If anything, the more I pull back, the more he is right there dragging me back in. Back into whatever this thing between us has turned into. It is sending my brain into a tailspin. Every time I imagine that I have the situation under control, he does something to knock me completely off my game again. It has to be some kind of hard-to-get thing. Men love a woman they can’t have. I decide to chalk it up to that as I hang my coat up. I’m a challenge. He’s bored, single, and looking for another challenge.

I walk through the sunken living room before turning the corner into the kitchen. Mom is laughing at something Jami’s saying and my heart does a funny flip-flop. Just a challenge, I remind myself as I watch them. They haven’t noticed me yet, so I lean up against the wall. When my mom shakes her head at him while she laughs, a few brunette curls slip out of her hair clip, which makes me smile.

I’m incredibly lucky to have such a great mother. She’s been everything for me my entire life. Whatever I needed her to be, she became. She was nurturing but also protective, just like I imagine a dad would be. I feel a different pain in my heart thinking of Barry Montgomery, my father.

I look at Jami again. He’s helping mom get something in the cabinet above the fridge, and I start to chew my lower lip. What in god’s name am I going to do with him? If he keeps finding little ways to sneak into my heart, I am going to end up hurt no matter how this plays out.





DINNER GOES GREAT. Well, as great as a dinner you didn’t expect to have with people you didn’t expect to have it with can go. Jami keeps mom in a fit of laughter throughout the night and intrigued us both while discussing his work. It’s obvious how much he loves it, and although I don’t understand half the words coming out of his mouth when he explains it, it’s still a beautiful sight to watch him talk about his work with such passion.


It is close to ten o’clock at night and I can’t believe nearly five hours have gone by this quickly. I expected to feel weird or panicky about him being in my childhood home and spending time with my mom, but in all actuality, it feels very comfortable. Easy, even.

Mom and I are both curled up in front of the fireplace. I’m in a large, leather armchair and she’s sitting on the loveseat.

“I’m just going to run out and warm up the Jeep,” Jami says, standing up from his spot on the other couch and heading towards the front door.

It takes literally only a second for him to be out of earshot before my mom is on me. “Well isn’t he thoughtful.” She smirks, taking a lazy sip of her red wine.

“Mom,” I warn, shooting her a sideways glance.

“What?” she answers, feigning innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Uh huh.” I roll my eyes at her before going back to watching the fire.

“But if I were going to say something…” she starts. Here we go. “I’d say this. That man right there”—she gestures towards the front door—“is one of a kind.”

“Mom, please—” I try to interrupt, but she continues on.

“He isn’t your regular Joe, darling. He’s a once-in-a-lifetime type of guy.” She pauses. “Lennon, look at me.” I groan but do as I’ve been told, turning my face to her. “Once in a lifetime, my sweet girl, and he’s in love with you.”

As a pick my jaw up from the floor, I hear the front door open and close. It’s probably a good thing he’s coming back now, interrupting our conversation, because I have no idea what to say to my mom. Has she gone and lost her marbles? She isn’t that old yet. My god. He’s in love with me—please.

I take another moment to school the expression on my face before standing. “I think we should probably get going, Mom,” I tell her, stretching.

“The Jeep should be warmed up by now,” Jami says, entering the living room.

“It was lovely meeting you,” my mom coos as we step into our shoes and pull on our coats.