Peyton

Nick opened the door and I stepped inside. I hadn’t seen my father since Christmas. After his relocation to North Carolina, the holidays were the only time I saw him or my brothers. I hoped meeting Nick’s mother and father, although traumatic, would provide me comfort.

I stepped to Nick’s side. He rested his left arm on my shoulder, and sighed. “Pop, this is Peyton.”

His father jumped from the chair he was sitting in and held out his right hand. He looked just like Nick, only twenty or so years older. Regardless of his age, I was shocked at the similarities in their appearance. “Well shit, Son. You should have warned us. Nice to meet you, Peyton.”

“We were just in the neighborhood,” Nick said. “Thought we’d stop by for a minute.”

I heard some noise in the kitchen, and suspected it was his mother.

“Our son’s here!” his father yelled. “And he brought a surprise.”

I laughed to myself at the fact he yelled at her like she was a mile away, when in fact she was only a few feet away.

“We’ll go in there,” Nick said. “Be right back.”

I followed him to the kitchen. When we stepped in, his mother was at the sink, bent over scrubbing it with a scouring pad.

“Always doing something,” he said. “Turn around, I want you to meet someone.”

She sighed, and turned around.

Oh my God.

I almost fainted. My legs went wobbly. I may have even gasped, but I wasn’t sure. If I did, no one said anything afterward. I fought to stay composed, and although it wasn’t easy, I followed her lead.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” She wiped her hands on her apron. “I’m Elizabeth, Nicholas’ mother. What was your name?”

I swallowed heavily and fought not to cry. “Peyton,” I said. “Peyton Price.”

But she already knew my name. She was the woman who saved me from myself.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Peyton,” she said. “Nicholas, go take off that thing, and come back when it’s gone.”

Nick sighed. “Fine. I’ll hang it on my bike.”

He walked away. I stood there, not knowing what to do or say. She gripped my hand in hers, pulled me to her side, and rinsed the sink. “It’s so nice to have you here.”

She knew everything about me. I’d told her about the incident entirely, about my mother dying, and about all of my quirks, shortcomings, and my strengths. I’d told her about my job, the need to write the article, and about having a man in my life that I wasn’t sure about.

I had, more than anything, simply told her the truth. Knowing that she knew everything about me, I couldn’t help but wonder if she would accept me or reject me as Nick’s significant other.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Do you know how to make chicken marsala?” she asked.

I shook my head. I really didn’t know how to make much. Growing up without a mother, going to college, and having a demanding job left me with little time to learn to cook.

“No,” I said.

She took me by the hand and led me to the oven. “Stand right there, and let me get everything. We’ll make it together, how’s that?”

I grinned. “Sounds good.”

“Sounds good?” She chuckled, then opened the refrigerator door. “Nicholas says that all the time, and now he’s got you saying it. It’s nice to see he’s rubbing off on you. He’s a nice boy.”

I nodded. “He is.”

She placed everything on the countertop.

“All he’s ever needed was a nice girl.” She looked me in the eye, and smiled. “I’m so glad he finally found one.”

She wrapped her arms around me and held me tight.

I loved having Nick hold me and hug me, but there would never be anything that would come close to be being held in a mother’s arms.

Elizabeth may not have been my mother, but my heart sure didn’t know it.