“I’ll see them soon.” He reached over to kiss her. His mouth was warm and firm on hers, and he didn’t linger. “Let’s get some sleep.”
He clasped her hand in his, rolled onto his back, and was asleep less than five minutes later.
Chapter Thirteen
* * *
DREW HAULED HIMSELF out of bed at six AM to get his parents’ luggage downstairs and hug and kiss them goodbye. His mom must have been up with the chickens; she was heating up some breakfast sandwiches. The coffee was ready. She was filling two travel mugs when he walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning, honey,” she said as she reached up to kiss his cheek. “Did you sleep well?” He saw color rising in her cheeks.
“Sure, Mom. Did you sleep well?”
“Of course I did.”
His mom was doing her best to look innocent, but he knew better. She put the lids on the travel mugs, and he reached out to take both of her hands in his. “There’s something I need to talk with you about.”
“I have to pack up these sandwiches for your dad. You know how hungry he is in the morning—”
“Mom. Mama. Five minutes of your time.”
She let out a sigh.
“Come and sit with me at the table,” Drew coaxed.
“Don’t you want to eat too? I know you want breakfast.”
“It can wait.” He led her to his kitchen table, pulled out a chair for her, and sat down kitty-corner from her. “Do you feel like you’ve worked out most of the issues with Dad while you’ve been here?”
“I don’t know how to answer that question—”
“Try.”
“Last night was a good start,” and she blushed a little more. He pretended like he didn’t notice it. “We need to do a lot more talking about what he expects and what I need. We’ve been married a long time, honey, but we’re in a rut. I wish he understood that I’m enjoying my new job and I’d like to keep working, instead of thinking he’s competing for my time and attention.” She looked down at the table. “I don’t want to spend every day for the rest of my life just waiting for him to get home from work.”
Drew squeezed his mom’s hand. “Do you want me to try talking with him about it?”
“Your dad is pretty old-fashioned. It was one of the reasons why I fell in love with him. I knew he wanted a wife that stayed home. That worked out well when you kids were little and he was building his client list, but the house is empty most of the time now. He wants to be the provider. Just because I make a little money at what I do doesn’t mean he’s not doing an excellent job.” She looked into his eyes. “I want something that’s mine.”
Drew squeezed her hand again. “Mom, I’ve been thinking about what you’ve told me and what Dad’s told me. I understand that you’d like to shake things up and try something new, but I want you to consider something as well.”
“What’s that? Honey, I have to get that stuff out of the oven—”
He got to his feet, crossed to the oven, grabbed a hot mat, and removed the pan of breakfast sandwiches, setting it on another hot mat to cool. He switched off the oven.
“How’s that?”
“Thank you,” she said. He sat back down at the table.
“I want you to do something for me, Mom. As I told you the other night, I’m willing to pay for a chef a few nights a week, send you some restaurant gift cards or whatever you and Dad might like so you can spend a little time together talking this out. I’m also willing to pay for some sessions with a counselor.”
“We don’t need therapy—”
“Okay, then.” He looked into her cornflower-blue eyes. “I want you to tell your boss you can’t work on Sundays. I’d prefer you didn’t work on the weekends at all, but that’s between you and Dad.”
“Everyone works on the weekends there.”
“It won’t hurt to ask. Mom, when you made the deal with Dad that you wouldn’t work, he thinks you changed the rules on him. I think it’s great that you have a job that you enjoy, and I will keep telling Dad that he needs to join the twenty-first century.” His mom let out a soft laugh. “I know things at home are not the same as they were when we were all little and you had your hands full, but he wants the same girl sitting next to him on the couch while he watches the game.”
“I suppose so.”
“Of course he does. Someday, my kids will be sitting on that couch with you.”
She gave him a somewhat misty smile. “Yes, honey, they will.”
He took her hand again. He still remembered holding her hand when he was little and learning to cross the street, ride a bike, or when his parents were chaperones at his senior prom and he asked his mom to dance. Someday, he’d walk her up the aisle to her seat when he married the woman of his dreams.