"Tell me about, Piper," she says, handing me a cup.
I shrug. "You know. Cara's baking partner, Justin's girl, my new friend. Piper. She had a baby last night."
She hides her smile behind rising steam before sipping. "But why is she abusing you?"
"Because I'm an ass, like Dad." I cringe, gripping the mug handle so tight I fear it'll break just like Mom's heart when he left.
I look up to gauge her reaction, but the only thing that's changed is the newfound pink flush on her cheeks.
"He was an ass sometimes," she says, breaking into a beautiful grin. "But he was the best kind-funny, honest, full of life. I like when you remember him. Don't stop on my account."
"Do you wonder what happened to him?" I ask before I even know it was a question in my head.
Her eyes mist over. "Every day." Taking my hand, she squeezes. "Your dad was my one and only. I grew up loving him, and I still do. He's a good man. A good man who had a calling to be someone other than what he was in Lilyfalls. Don't hold that against him, okay?"
I nod, but swallow down the truth itching to explode from my mouth. What good would it do to tell her? None. Knowing I've been looking for Gavin Lawless for the better part of my years in the service, more so these last two, will only have her worrying about me. She'll wonder if I've moved on even as she tells herself she has. But I'd bet my last year's gross net income she hasn't been on a date since he left.
"I spoke to Cara yesterday," she says, dragging my thoughts away from her past and to my present.
"Yeah?" I focus on my coffee, and the heat sliding down my throat.
"Piper and the baby are doing great. They'll be home in the morning."
"Good." I nod again. "She delivered that kid like a champ."
"And you had nothing to do with it?"
No, I definitely did not. "Justin gets all the credit. I was just around to help the kid make his appearance."
I jerk away from the counter stool and pace the tiny family room. Gus nips at my feet, using my retreat as his game. The walls close in on me with each step, and I tug at the neck to my T-shirt that's choking, the need to run inching up my spine.
"You want to go to her."
My gaze snaps up to find Mom staring at me with her arms crossed. I grab my hair. "I've got Justin in my head telling me to take care of Piper, but I don't know if I should do that."
"Why shouldn't you?"
I stop pacing and fall onto the couch. Tipping my head back, I close my eyes and groan. Maybe it's the pound of bacon in my stomach revolting, but somehow I doubt it's responsible for the tumultuous sea churning inside of me. I don't know how to look at that kid without seeing Justin. Without the pointed dagger digging into my gut reminding me he's missing what I'm seeing.
"Because." I swallow down the guilt that riddles my body with holes. "It should be him. I promised Piper I'd bring Justin home and I failed him and her in the worst way. I'm not equipped to take his place."
The cushions barely sink next to me and then Mom has my hand, holding it and tracing the indents of a dozen scars. Reminders of where I've been-who I am. But I like the connection and how it grounds me to the moment. She's always been good at knowing what I need: silence. Blessed silence, without noise in my head or words to muddle through and confuse my thoughts. Just time to think.
She lets me have a few minutes before taking a deep breath. "You don't need to be anyone but yourself. Second guessing is natural. The first month Gavin left I struggled with what I could have done to make him stay," she says through a lurch in my heart. We don't talk about this. We never have. Dad left, end of story, and she made us focus on tomorrow not yesterday. "I got locked up in the what-ifs, but Cade. It wasn't about me. As much as his decision to join the Navy was not about you or Cara. We couldn't have changed anything. The same is true for you. Justin's dea-"
"Don't say another word." I jump to my feet so fast Gus yaps against his strained vocal cords, but he keeps up the pace as I head to the kitchen. Turning to Mom, my chest tightens around what little air remains in my lungs. She doesn't know that I asked Justin to extend our contract for another year or worse, the thoughts I'd had about his fiancée. "I can't talk about this."
"Okay." She holds out her hand.
Three vehicles move across Afghanistan. Fuck. Fuuuck.
"I'm going to the cottage. You know, to make sure everything's ready for her when she . . . When Piper-"