He glanced at his Rolex. “Maybe she’ll stand us up. See the address and decide it’s a little too middle class for her taste.”
I gave him a chuckle even though I could hear in his voice that wasn’t what he wanted at all. As much as he acted like he couldn’t stand his mother, there was a part of him that cared about her. That wanted her to do right by him.
I put my coffee on the table, putting a hand on his knee. Steadying him. Maybe me and Alicia’s talk shook something loose. Chiseled through the ice. Helped her find her heart.
The door swung open.
We were about to find out.
I nearly spit out my coffee when I saw that she was in an oversized white shirt and denim leggings. Her salt and pepper hair was held back by a flowered hair scarf and oversized Jackie O shades were over her eyes. I guess that was the only thing remotely Alicia Whitmore-like about her get-up. Wearing sunglasses at 10 at night.
She saw us and flashed a brief smile before turning to the barista and giving him her order.
Jacob glanced at me, his expression glum. “Here we go.”
I brought my coffee to my lips, taking a hearty gulp and wishing I had some wine. A shot. An extra something-something to prepare me.
She started in our direction and the closer she got more waves of dread crashed into me until I sat there, stomach knotted, water up to my chin.
“It’s so great to see you two.”
Up to my mouth. Choking because the BS was too much. It was freaking unbearable. “Please don’t.”
She feigned innocence as she sat down in the seat opposite us. “What? I can’t be cordial?”
I felt the anger stifling me. Jacob and I could still be in bed, away from her toxicity. “Why don’t we try something different? Something real maybe?”
Jacob put his hand over mine. “Calm down, Leila.”
I bristled until I looked at him and saw the strain. I wasn’t helping things. I was making things worse. The eyes that were turned on us weren't looking at Alicia. They were ogling me.
I leaned back, taking a few breaths and tried to ignore the patronizing smirk on Alicia’s lips.
She got comfortable, bringing her cup to her nose and inhaling before she looked at us. “This place is very--” Poor? Unbearable. Beneath you? “--Quaint.”
I rolled my eyes and brought my cup to my lips to snuff out the smart comment rising in my throat.
“Do you two come here often?”
I let out a disgusted sigh, dropping my coffee on the table and crossing my arms.
“Is there a reason you asked us here?” The tightness in Jacob’s voice was proof he was tired of this game too.
Alicia put down her cup, her eyes looking back and forth between the two of us. “I’m trying here.”
“Trying what?” Jacob asked gruffly.
“To be nice.”
Oh geez. I opened my mouth but the snort Jacob let out was incredulous enough for the both of us. “Nice? Since when?”
Her eyes glittered. “Is there no point in trying? Is that what you’re saying, Jacob? Should I not even waste my time?” Her voice was as chilly as her glare. “How about I talk about how I don’t appreciate walking in this part of town after dark? Or how I can’t stand this hole in the wall with its amateur artwork, artsy fartsy music or the fact that we can’t have a conversation without strangers catching the gist of it? Let’s talk about why your own mother wasn’t allowed to come to your home.”
“You weren’t allowed in our home because the last two times you walked through the door you insulted me and my fiancé,” Jacob said without blinking. “Home is supposed to be a safe place. Where family belongs...and you haven’t been my family for a long time.”
I looked at him, stroking his knee, seeing how riled up he was getting. Was she really so oblivious that she couldn’t see the negative effect she was having on him?
“You don't mean that,” she said in a huff.
“Why did you want to meet us here?” He spoke every word distinctly, a warning in his tone.
Her patrician features were tight. Genuinely taken aback. If I didn’t know her I’d almost feel bad. She walked through the door legitimately expecting a warm reception. Like we’d chat it up over coffee even though she’d done nothing but treat her son like crap and tried to drive a wedge between the two of us.
Her mouth was slightly open, flabbergasted. “I wanted to start over.”
“Just like that?” Jacob said acidly. “You woke up and decided what, we’re supposed to act like nothing has happened? I’m supposed to act like nothing happened?”
She sat back slightly, her cheeks reddening. “No, I just...I’m...”
Holy crap. Was she really about to use the ‘s’ word? I leaned forward, not believing it. Needing to hear it.
“I’m sorry.” She faced me. “You’ve been kind to me, nicer than I’ve ever been to you. I had no right treat you the way I have.” She slowly turned her attention to Jacob. “Son, I--”
Her voice cracked and I felt Jacob’s muscles tense. I cautioned a look at his face and he was struggling to act like he could care less about whatever she was about to say, but he cared. His chin trembled slightly before he tore his eyes away from her and looked at me.
I looked into his eyes and saw the question. If he could trust her. If she would hurt him again. I didn't have an answer for him, but I gazed back and told him what I knew with absolute certainty. That I loved him and I’d be there. No matter what.
His chin stilled and he glanced back at her, holding my hand and waiting for his mother to collect herself.
Alicia sniffled, her gray eyes wet with tears. “I can’t change the past and the things I’ve done to you, Jacob. I am truly sorry.”
The silence hung between us. She looked at him hopefully, but he didn’t say a thing. Surely she didn't expect to apologize and have him take her in his arms, all the terrible things forgiven, just like that. Even if he loved her and wanted to believe she meant it, it would take time.
She went to her purse, ruffling through the contents. “You don’t have to say anything. Either of you.” She pulled out a small square box.
I gasped, recognizing the size and shape.
A ring box.
Jacob’s voice was barely audible. “Is that--?”
“Your grandmother’s ring,” she finished, a tear weaving down her cheek. “She would have wanted you to have it. And if she knew what I’d done--” She shivered, like she felt a chill. If ghosts were a real thing, Jacob’s grandmother would have haunted her ass relentlessly.