Taking a Shot Page 25

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It fits.”

Tyler slid his hand in hers. A small bay window sat off to the right side of the porch. She wondered what room that was. If it was the living room, she could imagine the Christmas tree lit up, twinkling in greeting as people walked down the street. All the homes sat close, so it must be a tight community.

Then again this could be nothing more than fantasy she’d conjured up in her own mind.

They walked up the painted blue steps to the small front porch.

“I love this house,” she whispered to him, and he squeezed her hand.

She could see him jumping off that porch onto the narrow side yard or into the bushes. Boys did that.

He opened the door and walked inside. The rooms were cozy and warm, the ceilings high. There was a vintage feel to the home even though an oversize, flat-screen television sat in the living room. And yes, the bay window belonged to the living room.

A diminutive woman came rushing in, wiping her hands on the apron she wore.

“Ty,” she said in a quiet yet excited voice.

Jenna stood back and watched as Ty swept his mother up in an embrace, kissed her cheek, then set her back on the floor.

His mother was nothing short of stunning. China doll features, she had dark hair that she wore pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a beige dress that had to be expensive, and pumps. Jenna was happy she’d dressed up.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” His mother beamed up at him, and the pride Jenna saw on his mother’s face was evident. “Now introduce me to your friend.”

Jenna also noted the word “friend.” Not girlfriend, but friend. His mother wanted distance between Ty and Jenna. Duly noted.

“Mom, this is Jenna Riley. Jenna, this is my mother, Louise Davis.”

Not Anderson? Tyler hadn’t mentioned his mother had remarried, but okay.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs.—”

“You can call me Louise. So nice to meet you, Jenna.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Louise. Your home is beautiful.”

“Thank you. Please come in. Take off your coat and get comfortable. Would you like a cocktail?”

“No, thanks. I’d love to see the house.”

“Of course. Tyler, take her on a tour. I’ll check on dinner. I hope you like beef Wellington, Jenna.”

Wow. “I love it. Thank you.”

Tyler took her hand. “A tour it is. Let’s start upstairs.”

She followed him up the staircase.

He stopped at the top. “There’s really nothing up here.”

She pushed at his chest. “Shut up. I want to see your house.”

He rolled his eyes and led her down the hall. “This is my mom’s room.”

It was perfect. Cozy and feminine, with a mauve bedspread, muted, earth-toned pillows, an antique dresser, and a bath off to the side. The room was painted a light beige, with eggshell wainscoting.

“I could so live in that room. Did your mom decorate it?”

“That’s her thing. Seems to me like it’s a different color every time I come home.”

She laughed. “You know what they say about a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”

“Yeah, well, Mom likes to do that plenty.”

They moved down the hall to another room. “Sewing room. This is where she does that fabric and sewing machine stuff.”

The room was filled with fabric. Lush jeweled colors and muted beiges. There was a sitting area and a work area, books on design and fabric. Even though it wasn’t Jenna’s area of expertise, the female in her squealed with delight.

“Oh, it’s lovely.”

“Girl stuff.”

She rolled her eyes at Ty and they walked on down the hall. “This is my room. Prepare yourself.”

He opened the door and it was as if time had stood still. It was precious. A twin bed sat under the double window and the room was painted a bright blue. Trophies of all kinds filled the shelves on the walls. A small desk cornered one end of the room. Photos of Ty at different ages filled several shelves on the walls. She stepped in the room and scanned the photographs of Tyler missing a front tooth, one of him with his hair falling over his eyes like it still did today, and one of him as a baby.

She put her hand over her heart and looked up at him. “This is so sweet.”

“I’ve tried to get her to let me pack up all this stuff and put it in the attic, but she won’t let me. It’s creepy.”

“It is not. She obviously loves you.”

“She could turn this into a guest room.”

Jenna sat on his bed. “Why would she?”

“Because people need to move on. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Maybe she loves these memories of you. Look at all these trophies and certificates.” She stood and scanned the framed certificates listing Ty’s accomplishments on the Honor roll, dean’s list, even his academic scholarship letters.

She turned to him. “Weren’t you a smarty?”

He crossed his arms. “Not just a dumb jock, ya know.”

She was learning more about him every day, and she liked what she saw.

“Your mother is very proud of you.”

“She could be proud of me by putting my crap in a scrapbook.”

She laughed. “My parents have the trophy room in our house. Stuff from Mick and Gavin and my childhood, all the way through high school and college. Remind me to show it to you sometime.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. A room dedicated just to us kids and our accomplishments. So believe me, it’s not just your mom. And it’s as embarrassing for us as it is for you. Some parents like to show off their kids. Your mother is not creepy.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. But I’d be happier if this room had a futon and maybe an elliptical in it. Something for my mom. It’s like I died or something and she’s afraid to touch anything in here. She’s enshrined it.”

Jenna snorted. “It’s a parent thing. Get over it.”

They went back downstairs and through the dining room, which held a tableclothed rectangular cherry table with matching china cabinet and hutch. The furniture had to be antique. Ty led her through the doorway into the kitchen, which obviously had been remodeled. There were dark gray granite countertops, cherry cabinetry, and stainless-steel appliances as well as lots of open window space.

“Oh, I love your kitchen, Louise.”

She turned and smiled. “Thank you. When I’m not sewing I’m trying out a new recipe, so I spend a lot of time in here. I remodeled a couple years ago, got rid of the ancient appliances and tacky countertops. Out with the old, in with the new is what I say.”

“Except for my room,” Ty grumbled.

“Hey, I like your room,” Jenna said, taking the glass of wine Louise passed to her.

“So do I. Some of my best memories are of Tyler’s childhood. And I want him to feel at home when he visits, which isn’t often enough.”

“Because I’m too tall to sleep in that twin bed,” Tyler said, rolling his eyes at Jenna when his mother’s back was turned.

Jenna grinned at him.

Ty’s mother led them into the living room, where they sat and drank.

“You are not too tall for that bed. It’s extra long,” his mother said as she sipped her wine.

“My memories are fine without you leaving my room the same way it was when I was six years old.”

Louise turned to her. “It’s a constant point of contention between us. He doesn’t like that I won’t pack up his things and shove them in the attic. But I love those memories of his boyhood.” She took a sip of wine. “Life was simpler back then.”

Jenna slid Ty a look. He shrugged.

“I saw your sewing room, Louise. And your bedroom is amazing. Did you make the spread and window coverings yourself?”

She beamed a smile. “I did. My mother taught me to sew. It’s not something I had time to do until I retired a few years ago.”

“Oh, how nice for you. What did you do before you retired?”

“I was executive assistant to the president of one of the banks. Years ago I started out in clerical work, then as a secretary. Worked my way up over the years into executive work. It was nonstop busy, and I’m glad to be out of it.”

“It sounds very exciting.”

“Oh, it was,” she said, inhaling and letting out a sigh. “But my real joy has always come from sewing. Now that I have the time to do it, I love to make things for the house. I even have friends asking me to redo some of their rooms.”

Jenna saw the excitement on Louise’s face as she talked about designing for her friends.

“Do you have your own business?”

She laughed. “No. It’s just something I do for fun.”

“You’re very good at it. You could go into the design business.”

She seemed to ponder the idea. “I could, couldn’t I? I hadn’t thought about it. It was just a hobby.” Then she waved her hand in the air. “But it’s too late for me to do something like that.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to start your own business. You’re still young and you obviously have the talent and the ambition.”

“You think so?” Her eyes lit up. “I don’t know anything about starting my own business.”

“My family owns their own business. I could give you some pointers on what you’d need to do.”

Jenna and his mother spent the next couple hours—including through dinner—discussing small business ownership. Ty had expected the worst. His mom had never liked any girl he’d ever brought home. She’d been rude and unpleasant and had found something about the girl to pick apart. Then again, the last girl he’d brought home had been when he was in his early twenties and still in college. She’d wanted him to focus on school, not on women. And she’d still been bitter over the divorce.

He’d just assumed his mother would always be bitter.

She was different now. More mellow. Or maybe it was Jenna who brought out a different side to her. Jenna didn’t hang on him or put a possessive stamp on her relationship with him. She seemed genuinely interested in getting to know his mother, not trying to make his mother like her, or trying to make his mother see that she and Ty were a couple.

But that was who Jenna was. She was good with people, knew what it took to make them at ease. That’s what made Riley’s so successful. She made her customers happy, and it wasn’t just serving them drinks.

After dinner they had dessert, and Jenna told his mom all about her family.

“So you have brothers who play sports, too?”

“Yes. Mick plays football and Gavin plays baseball.”

“Did you ever play sports?”

“I played basketball and volleyball in high school. These days I only play when the family forces me into a basketball game at the house.”

His mother laughed. “I can imagine it was difficult growing up with those boys.”

“It was a challenge. But I held my own.”

“I’m sure you did. I’ll bet you can handle my son, too.”

Jenna looked at Ty and smiled. “Nothing to handle. You raised a fine son, Louise.”

His mom blinked rapidly a few times. “Thank you. I’m very proud of him.”

Uh-oh. He needed to get them out of there before the waterworks started. “Well, we need to go.”

“So soon?”

“Sorry, yeah.”

They stood and Tyler went to get their coats.

Jenna hugged his mother. “It was such a pleasure to meet you, Louise. I hope I get the opportunity to again. But you have my number. If you’re serious about getting that business started, call me.”

His mother hugged Jenna tight. “I will definitely be calling you.” She held on to Jenna’s arms. “I don’t often say this, in fact, I don’t recall ever saying this about any woman my son dated, but I’m very glad to have met you, Jenna Riley. And I hope I get to see you again.”

“Likewise.” Jenna grinned and headed out the door.

His mom pulled him into a tight hug. He bent down so she could kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know where you found this girl, son, but don’t let her go.”

TWENTY

ONE DOWN, ONE TO GO. THEY HEADED DOWNTOWN where his dad and stepmother had a condo.

“I have no idea why you were so afraid for me to meet your mother.”

He glanced over at Jenna. “I never said I was afraid.”

“You intimated that she was some maternal version of Medusa.”

“I did not.”

“It was close.”

He shrugged. “She’s changed. She used to be more uptight.”

“She’s a wonderful, warm, and friendly woman. I had a great time with her.”

“Obviously she’s gotten over her bitterness about the divorce, because believe me, I expected something completely different.”

Jenna laughed and patted his hand. “You worry too much.”

“Probably.”

“Okay, now tell me about your dad.”

“He’s a big, friendly bear of a man, who uses his—I don’t even know how to explain this—overly sociable nature to mask any sense of unease or diffuse an uncomfortable situation. That’s how it had always been. If there was stress, Sean Anderson would crack a joke to allay it. Always laugh your way out of a problem. He’ll also insult you with a smile and an easy laugh. His way of thinking is, if he’s smiling while he’s calling you a bitch or a useless asshole, then it’s okay.

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