“Can I please have the Carbonara?”
Writing it all down, the waitress nodded her head. “Si, perfecto.” She took the menus from us and walked towards the kitchen.
“Don’t you think that dish is a little fattening, Tyler?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve hardly eaten a thing these last few days. I think my body could cope with a little bit of something naughty for a change.” My mum was always one to make sure no one was even remotely overweight in our house. When my sister and I were growing up, she was constantly watching what we were eating, scolding us if we wanted to eat a piece of chocolate or order a cake after a meal in a restaurant. My mother cared, but that was because she was so high maintenance.
“Why have you hardly eaten?” She frowned with concern, picking up her glass for a sip.
I did the same. “I’ve just been swamped with work and stuff. It’s no big deal.” I placed my glass back down and waited for her normal response.
“I worry about you working yourself too hard. I thought you were doing this column for yourself. Wouldn’t that help ease things a little?”
It did, but I wasn’t about to divulge all my secrets regarding Jeremy, my stranger—all the things that were keeping me inherently occupied at the moment. “It does, but I still want everything to be perfect.”
Laughing, my mother crossed her legs and leaned in a little. “You were always so devoted to anything you were interested in. Even as a child.”
I cocked my eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And I wonder where I got that from.”
My mother smiled. “Touché, Tyler. I suppose you were always going to be the fighter. It is in your genes, after all.”
I laughed a little, but the annoyance from earlier was still running through me. “So, back to where we were. Why is it so important that Ian and I get together? We’ve known each other since we were practically babies, and apart from the odd playful banter, we both know that the banter is as far as it goes. I have no interest in Ian in that way. We were, and always will be, extremely close, but I have to tell you the truth. I miss Dean. I think about him every day. I wonder what on earth happened to him and why he never returned to me.”
My mother flinched at my words. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I never realised you felt that way.”
I sighed, feeling myself relax a little. “I didn’t think it was that hard to see, Mum. I pined for him. In a sense, I still do. I know it sounds crazy, but he was my first love. Surely you remember your first love?”
My mum smiled, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “His name was Blake and he was considered the bad boy at my school. I was infatuated, but your grandparents couldn’t stand the boy. I guess history truly does repeat itself. But the difference for me was I grew out of the bad boy that he was and, as I got older, I started focusing on more important issues in my life. By the time I was about thirteen, I knew I was going to be a lawyer. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that.”
“Do you know what happened to Blake?” I asked. I never knew this side of my mother, so this was more than a little intriguing.
My mother smiled, a little mischievously. “Funny enough, Blake was my third case to trial. He was twenty-four by then, and had been in and out of prison for various things. His case was a triple burglary, and four counts of being in possession of an illegal substance. When I saw him, I thought I wouldn’t be able to get through the case. I considered dropping it, or fumbling my way through. But I was just starting out. I had won my last two cases and I wasn’t going to let anyone come between that. My career was my life.”
“So you sent him down?” I asked, eager to hear the rest.
“Yes. It didn’t help that one of the houses he robbed belonged to the mayor. I think he realised that was a huge mistake right there. He got sent to prison for fifteen years, but was out after seven.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Wow! Didn’t you ever worry about—?”
“Revenge?” she asked, interrupting me. I nodded. “I did for a bit, but when he came out, it wasn’t long before he was back in again. It would seem that a life of crime and prison was all he was meant for. He did have his chance to seek retribution, but I kind of knew he wouldn’t do anything.”
I saw the glint in her eye, so had to ask, “Why?”
My mother took another sip of her drink. “Because he wrote to me while he was in jail. He said that being sentenced by me was the hottest and most unforgettable experience he had ever had. He said he knew he was going down, and if anybody had to do it, he was glad it was me. That he would gladly replay the case over and over in his head. That it would be the one pleasant memory he would cling onto in prison. He ended by saying he would love it if we got together again, but knew I was married with a baby on the way. He wished me only happiness.”