She leaned toward me, looking like a girl who just got her hand kissed by David Cassidy.

“With Garrett.” She leaned back. “He’s very handsome.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He’s also very tall.”

“I’ve noticed that too.”

“Girl like you, you got length and you wear heels. Not easy for you to find a man who can top you, you’re wearin’ heels. Worried you’d find a boy and it’d be like Tom Cruise when he was with that pretty Kidman lady. They looked good together but never right. When you two walked into my house last week, holdin’ hands, I thought to myself, that there looks right.”

“Mom—”

“Quiet, baby girl, let your mom be happy,” she whispered in a way I snapped my mouth shut.

She’d never met Dennis Lowe. Not my choice, he’d found excuses not to bury himself deep in my life. Excuses I should have seen as red flags to at least share the fact he was married if not that he was a whackjob.

And, obviously, me being with Trent didn’t make her happy.

Garrett Merrick was the kind of man who’d make any mother happy.

If, of course, she’d never been around when he was keeping a loose hold on losing his motherfucking mind.

But my mother, I knew, could be around that and want him even more for me.

I gave her time before I whispered back, “Okay, be happy. I’m happy. I’m scared, but I’m happy. Just be smart too, Mom, because I got a knack for fuckin’ shit up. Not gonna share, but I already almost blew it with Merry. So you wanna be happy, okay. Just do it bein’ cautiously happy.”

She shook my hands and replied, “I’ll be cautiously happy, honey-sicle.”

I nodded.

Then I went about finishing up.

“One more thing to tell you, and I’m sorry, Mom, but it isn’t a happy thing, cautious or not.”

“Oh crap,” she muttered.

“There’s a man in town, his name is Walter Jones. He’s writing a book on Dennis Lowe.” Her hands convulsed in mine so I held her tighter. “He stopped by, but he just happened to stop by when Merry was here, and Merry kinda…well…we’ll just say that didn’t make him happy.”

Her eyes started to brighten with joy again.

Shit.

“Anyway,” I went on, “I’m thinkin’ he’s not gonna stop by again, but just in case he thinks he can get somethin’ from you, you gotta know. Don’t talk to him and call me if he tries to get in touch with you.”

That happened. Mom had been targeted. It was far more rare for her because many accounts of what had happened were already out there, even TV shows made about it, and it was known Mom had never met Lowe.

That didn’t stop them all, though, especially them trying to use her to get to me.

I was not surprised when Mom skipped over all I’d said and honed in on one thing.

“Garrett took care of him for you?”