“You can’t do that,” Keith said, his lips inches from her ear. “You know his generation can’t handle phone calls. You’d have to do it in a text.”

That made her smile, which should have helped, but instead she started crying. Keith made soothing noises as he guided her into the house and got her to the sofa. They sat down and she buried her face in his shoulder, not exactly sure what she was crying about. Yes, the whole Coop thing was awful, but somehow this breakdown felt bigger. As if she was releasing all kinds of stress and tension she hadn’t known she was carrying.

When she was done, or at least able to stop sobbing, she drew back. “I need tissues.”

“You are a mess, aren’t you?”

He went into the hall bathroom and returned with a box of tissues, then settled next to her, his expression concerned. Ellen mopped her face and blew her nose.

“He’s not going to come back,” she said flatly. “Being with his dad is going to be so fun that he won’t want to come home. I’m waiting for him to tell me he wants to finish out his senior year in LA.” She tossed the tissues on the coffee table and sniffed. “Jeremy can introduce him to all kinds of interesting people. Movie stars and stuff. He can probably get him cast in a sitcom. I can’t compete with that. I’m just his boring mom.” More tears filled her eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve lost him.”

Keith’s gaze was steady. “You about done?”

“I have more but I can pause.”

“You haven’t lost him. Yes, he’s having a good time, but give it a few more days. He’ll be ready to come home.” He touched her shoulder. “You’re his family. His life is here. Once the shine wears off, he’ll see Jeremy for what he is—a guy who didn’t bother for seventeen years.”

“I want to believe you but he didn’t even ask me to drive him to the airport.”

“He’s a teenage boy. It’s much cooler to go with a friend.”

“I know that in my head, but my heart is sad.”

“Trust him. Trust yourself. You raised a good kid. He loves you. He’ll do the right thing.”

“But it hurts.”

“I know.”

He shifted and put his arm around her. She snuggled close, liking the feel of him next to her.

“Why are you mad at me?” she asked.

“I’m not.”

“You are. You won’t talk to me and we haven’t hung out even once since we’ve been back.” She scooted over so she could look at him. “Tell me what I did wrong.”

He looked away, then back at her. “There’s no easy answer to that.”

She took his hand in hers. “Keith, we’re friends. That can’t be lost. It can’t. We enjoyed ourselves while we were gone. There has to be a way to make that work now that we’re home.”

“It’s not that easy.”