Willow

 

“Momma, I’m home!” I yelled from the front door, knowing she was in the kitchen, whipping up my favorites because I was visiting. She couldn’t resist.

Faster than I expected her to move, she was on me within seconds. Her arms engulfed my whole body, and she held on tighter than I remembered she could. I loved her hugs. She put every ounce of feeling she had into them. By the time she let go, I knew exactly how much she’d missed me.

I pulled the cute purple bag out from behind me. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Oh, Willow.” She wiped her hands on her dish towel. “You didn’t have to get me anything. Having you home is enough.”

“I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Tears rolled down her cheeks when she pulled the quilt from the bag. Her hands held it at one end as she unfolded it, so she could see the whole thing. I knew I had nailed it, and it made me feel good.

“Sweetie. I don’t know what to say.” She covered her mouth with her hand, shocked and grateful at the same time.

“Isn’t it cool? I thought you could put it on my old bed, since you needed a new one.”

My mom’s eyes never left the quilt. She ran her hand over each picture of us, as if she were going over every moment in her mind. She didn’t speak for a while. I couldn’t help but get a little emotional myself. We’d been through a lot. Most of it hell, and all of it my fault. But there were moments in between where we just loved each other. There were times when my mom was my best friend—my only friend—and there were times where I made her proud.

“This is the best present I’ve ever received. Thank you so much.” We held each other for the longest moment. It felt good knowing I’d made her happy. “I know you already know this, but…I’m so proud of you. Of the woman you’ve become.”

“Momma, stop. You’re going to make me cry.” I kissed her cheek.

“Oh, all right. Let’s eat. That will calm us down.” She folded the quilt and I followed her to the kitchen.

My mouth watered when I saw the quiche. She’d made my favorite, on her day. God, I loved her. As I gathered the plates, my insides pinched, knowing Conner was training—working his ass off for another opportunity. He wasn’t reminiscing with his mom about the good ol’ days, nor was he getting his favorite meal made for him with love.

“What are you thinking about? You’re frowning,” Mom said while bringing the napkins to the table.

“Conner.”

“What about him?”

“He’s just…he doesn’t have what I have, you know?” I bowed my head, thinking about my past. “Like me, he’s, uh…made mistakes, and his mom isn’t in his life.”

“That’s awful.” She patted my hand. “From everything you’ve told me about him, he seems like a wonderful young man.”

“He is, Mom. He’s loving and loyal. He always puts me first, no matter what’s going on. I just get so pissed off that he’s had to go through most of his life with little to no support. And I can’t help but think about what I put you through—the bad decisions I’ve made—yet you’ve never disowned me. You’ve always loved me, even when I didn’t love myself.”

“And I always will, sweetie.” She rubbed my arm and pulled me in for a hug. “I know you said you were taking it slow, but I’d like to meet Conner one of these days. You said it yourself, you love him, right?”

“I do.” I smiled, not even realizing it, until I relaxed my cheeks.

“I can see that.” She grinned. “What’s the harm in your mother meeting the man you love?”

“None, I guess.” I shrugged. “I just feel like I should tread lightly where moms are concerned, you know?”

“I get it. We’ll take it slow.” She nodded. “Maybe just a dinner?”

“Okay, we can do that.”

 

***

 

When I entered Conner’s backyard, it was nearly ten o’clock. “Hey, guys.”

Steele and Conner paused their conversation, as Conner stood up and greeted me with a kiss on the lips. “How was your mom?”

“She’s really good. She loved the quilt.”

“I knew she would. You worry too much about shit that doesn’t matter.” Steele and I both laughed, even though it wasn’t exactly a compliment.

“What have you guys been grilling?” I could still feel the heat radiating off the metal lid.

“Meat,” Steele said, flicking a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “All the meat.”

“Kind of late for dinner.” I ran a hand over the knotted muscles of Conner’s back. “You need rest.” I massaged the hard lumps at the base of his neck.

He made a sound normally saved for a private setting. “I wanted to wait for you to get home.”

“Richard is coming in for this fight,” Steele mentioned from the patio chair.

“Doesn’t he usually?” I’d never met him formally, but he normally made an appearance where a lot of money would be concerned.

“Yeah,” Steele answered. “But this time he should have another contract in hand. If Payne wins, it could change his life.”

“He’s going to win,” I said with no hesitation.

“I just want to make sure you’re ready mentally,” Steele said, and nodded toward Conner. “I know you don’t like the fame shit, but that’s part of it. You saw in New York—” He closed his mouth, taking in Conner’s facial expression.

“I get it,” Conner clipped. “I’ll do what I gotta do.”

“I’ve been thinking,” I said to change the direction of bad memories. “I’ve seen on social media how curious people are about you. The one interview we did kept most of them at bay. Maybe if we did another one, where I kept the questions focused on the sport and your future in the cage, it would tamp down some of the eagerness about wanting to know more about you.”

“I don’t want to do that. Look,” he blew out a frustrated breath, “I know keeping myself private only adds to the curiosity, but I can’t have the general public knowing what I’ve gone through. I just can’t.”

“Okay.” I eyed Steele, letting him know our conversation was over.

“We’ll do a light workout tomorrow,” Steele added. “Then…it’s fucking game time. You got this, man.”

“Thanks.” Conner leaned into me and kissed my cheek. “I’m going to hit the shower.” Silence fell over the backyard as he went inside the house.

“I’m worried,” I admitted as soon as I heard the click from the sliding glass door.

“Me too,” Steele agreed. “I kind of feel responsible. I mean, I pushed him into this, and Willow—he’s not ready. Not mentally.”

“I know. What do I do?” I asked.

“Just be by his side. He’s doing this for you, not for himself.”

“Me?” I pressed my hand to my chest. “I’m very careful about his fights and my opinion of them.” Conner was aware of my distaste for seeing him hurt, but I was supportive. I kept myself in the loop, always wanting to learn more, so that he felt like he had someone in his corner. Someone who loved him, no matter the outcome.

“He wants a future with you, doll. He wants you taken care of.”

“I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for years.” Doubt crept into my mind at my words.

“I know you can. He knows you can. But he wants to do it,” he said. “He’s never shown me his true potential before meeting you. He’s going to blow this sport up, Willow. I just hope you’re ready, because he isn’t. And trust me,” he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, “he will need you when all the noise gets too loud.” For the first time since I’d met him, I saw shadows in Steele’s eyes. His vulnerability was hard to watch.

I closed the distance between us and rubbed his shoulder, feeling like he needed comfort. “Hey,” I said. “I got him. I promise, whatever happens, I’ve got him.”

He scooted his chair back and stood. “God, if that douchebag doesn’t marry you, I will.”

I giggled and brought him in for a hug. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ve barely made it to the point where I’ll pee in front of him.”

“Damn, girl. You sure know how to kill a mood.” His right eyebrow rose just a hair. “Or start one. Now, I’m picturing you with your pants down.” He made his way toward the side of the house, whistling.

“Goodnight, pervert.” I walked to the patio door, chuckling. I was so glad Conner had him. I believed in quality over quantity where friends were concerned, and he was a good one. I knew he loved my man, and would do anything for him. For me, it lessened my load somewhat, knowing there was at least one more person Conner could count on for things that I didn’t understand.

Conner was setting his alarm when I finished brushing my teeth. I slid under the covers and curled my legs so that my backside fit perfectly into his body.

“I love you,” he said as he wrapped an arm around me.

I hugged his arm tighter around my waist. “My mom wants to meet you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. She’s mentioned it twice now, so unless you want me to suffer twenty questions every time I talk to her, you’re going to have to take one for the team.”

He pulled on my shoulder until I turned around, so that we were facing each other. Darkness surrounded us, but I could see the blue in his eyes from the moonlight coming in through the window. His hand brushed the side of my hair softly. “Meeting your mom is no hardship. She’s a part of you.”

“I’d like to meet yours too.”

“Willow, I can’t—we’ve talked about this before, and I give you the same answer each time.” He rolled onto his back, and placed his palms over his eyes.

“But you haven’t tried to contact her in so long, maybe she’s changed her mind.”

He sighed. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do. And I appreciate the fact that you care. But—”

“But what?” I asked.

“I’m trying to say this and not sound like a dick.”

“Go on.” I knew he was going to sound like a dick.

He dropped his hands and looked at me. “You have to leave it alone. What’s done is done. It puts me on edge when you talk about it. Stop. Please?”

I frowned, knowing no matter what I said, he wasn’t going to hear it. Feeling defeated, I rolled back to my other side.

“Are you pissed?”

“No. Just tired,” I said, pulling the blankets up under my chin. “Goodnight.”

I was pissed, and hurt. But more than that, I was annoyed with myself for feeling hurt, because even though I did want to meet his mother, and see for myself what kind of woman could turn her back on the man that I loved, Conner had every right to feel the way he felt.