Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 (43 page)

“I didn’t even hear the door. Phoebe. So good to see you again,” Jack said, tossing his towel over his shoulder and extending a hand to me. I took his hand and he covered it with his other rather than shaking it as I had expected him to. I looked at him and he looked…nervous? I guess after the last time we met, with him having my mother bent over his desk, he would be apprehensive. But realizing how truly happy my mother was with him, I couldn’t hold anything against him. I pulled him into me and gave him a hug. My action seemed to surprise him a bit, but once he recognized that I held no hard feelings, he hugged back sweetly and whispered in my ear, “Thank you.”

We pulled back, and Jack extended a hand to Charlie. “Chase Smythe. Nice to meet you.” The two shook hands. “Jack Stevens.”

“Of course, Mr. Stevens. It’s nice to meet you as well.”

“Can I get everyone something to drink?” Jack offered, walking over to the wet bar tucked along the back wall.

“Just water for me, sir,” Charlie said, then he turned to me. “Phoebe?”

“Same for me,” I said.

“Okay then,” Jack smiled. He cracked open a large bottle of water and poured it into two glasses. “Please, sit,” he gestured, and the three of us took seats in the room. My mom chose an oversized dark brown velvet chair and she curled right up in it like it was made for her. Jack sure didn’t miss it either, because he smiled warmly at her, and she returned the grin. For a split second I wondered what story that chair had to tell, but quickly pushed those aside.

Charlie pulled us into the center of a long sofa, his hand never letting go of mine.

“Chase, I hope everything is okay in Georgia? Your mother is doing better?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for asking. My mother is doing well.”

“Ma’am,” she laughed. “We don’t have to be so formal here. You can call me Beth.”

The name took me by surprise. She’d been Elizabeth for as long as I can remember. My dad and Jess called her Bets, but I don’t recall her ever introducing herself that way, or even liking that nickname. But Beth was an entirely new name. New last name. New first name. The hair. The clothes and jewelry. My mother really was a new person.

Jack handed Charlie and I our glasses of water, then went to retrieve glasses of scotch for himself and my mom, and sat on the arm of the velvet chair she clearly enjoyed. She’d been a wine drinker for…well, forever. Scotch? Would this night of surprises never end with regards to who my mother had become? Although with the smile on her face, I was almost eager to see the next new thing.

“So, Chase. Your hair? What happened? If I were your manager, I’d be fit to be tied,” Jack laughed.

“Oh, well, my mom was losing her hair from the chemo, so she wanted to get it shaved off. She got a little nervous when the time came around, so I jumped in the chair and did it first. And yeah, my manager, Michael, isn’t happy at all.”

“And neither is my boss, Valerie,” I continued. “It was my job to keep him out of trouble,” I said sheepishly.

“Trouble was always your middle name growing up,” my mom said, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. She was right. Even though I was always getting into trouble, as the baby of the family and the only girl, I never really got punished for it. But presently, my mind thought about my current trouble.

We sat and chatted for a few minutes about the sunflower farm, and Charlie’s mom’s condition, her developments, and prognosis, and all the while Charlie rubbed his hand nervously over his shaved head.

A bell dinged from the kitchen and Jack got up, kissed my mom on the head, and headed off dutifully.

“So, he’s cooking dinner?” I asked.

“He loves to cook. It’s my recipe, though,” she assured me.

My mother took a careful sip of Scotch, and eyed the two of us. “What have you two been up to since you got back from Georgia? Phoebe, you are positively glowing.” She studied my face as she asked the question. My stomach dropped. It was the same way she asked the questions the morning after my friends and I were out getting into ‘trouble.’ Somehow she always knew. Whether it was tossing toilet paper all over the trees of one of our friends’ homes, sneaking into a movie that I wasn’t supposed to see, or even the night I lost my virginity—she knew.

I couldn’t look her in the eye, and Charlie squeezed my hand. My eyes dropped to the gorgeous pendant that hung from her neck. “I could say the same for you, Mom. I love that necklace. Is it new?”

“It is. A gift from Jack. He bought it in Paris.” She toyed with the pendant and smiled.

“So, Beth, how are things going at Mr. Stevens’ company? Phoebe says you are working on the charity board?”

“Actually, yes I am. I love it.” My mom grew animated and her accusatory tone was dropped. “This past week, I put up an initiative, which was overwhelmingly approved, to hold a ball to raise funds for women who are patients or survivors of breast cancer who run their own businesses. Phoebe mentioned in a text that your mom’s uncle helps to run her farm. And I got to thinking that not everyone has that kind of support.” Mom went on about the various plans for the ball like location, entertainment, and other celebrities that have already signed on to support the project.

“Wow. That’s incredible. If there’s anything I can do to lend support, please ask,” Charlie offered.

“I will. Thank you very much, Chase. You are a good man, just like Phoebe said.” She looked at the two of us, and our clenched hands.

Just then Jack called from the kitchen. “And dinner, is served. Beth, honey, would you grab a bottle and fresh glasses from the bar? I forgot to pull those down earlier.”

“Of course,” my mom purred as she stood. “You two head on into the dining room,” she pointed and walked over to the wet bar and pulled out a bottle of wine, while Charlie and I stood and headed toward the dining room.

Charlie pulled a chair for me at the side of the table. “Do you think she already knows?” he asked quietly.

“With her, anything is possible. But no, she couldn’t. It’s not like she’s on Twitter or watches the celebrity gossip shows. Right?” That last bit had me wondering though since she’d just spent the past five minutes talking about celebrities that I didn’t know she even knew existed.

“You’re probably right,” he agreed and went to sit opposite me from the table, leaving the heads of the table for my mom and Jack.

My mom entered, setting wine glasses in front of all the place settings. “Um, mom. I’m only nineteen, remember?”

She shrugged a bit, “I’m aware. You’ve never declined before.” She was right. Often at dinner my mom would serve my brothers and I a small glass of wine. My parents reasoned that if they made the wine taboo, we’d be more inclined to abuse it. If wine were just a drink with dinner, we’d be less likely to make a big deal of it. Ultimately, her plan worked, and because it wasn’t some big forbidden thing in our house, I never felt compelled to drink like crazy the way some of my friends would when they were out of the watchful eye of their parents.

“Well, I’m good tonight. Thank you,” I said, and declined the glass.

“What’s for dinner anyway?” Charlie asked. “It smells delicious.”

“Ah. This is one of Phoebe’s favorites. Chicken Cordon Blue, wild rice, and asparagus. Be right back.”

“Chicken Cordon Blue and asparagus? You
are C
alifornia,” Charlie said, laughing.

All I could do was shrug.

Jack and my mom came back a couple of minutes later with the serving dishes and they laid them on the center of the table. It looked great until I got a whiff of the asparagus. My stomach turned.

“Mr. Stevens, Beth, it looks incredible,” Charlie said, with a watchful eye on me. I think he had an inkling.

“I used to crave Chicken Cordon Bleu when I was pregnant with Phoebe,” my mom said to Charlie, taking her seat.

Oh! Come! On! She knows. She totally knows.
But how? No. I was just sensitive to certain words. I was misconstruing things. She couldn’t know.

I pushed my thoughts down and took the bowl of wild rice that was handed to me. Then the asparagus. I carefully took only a few stalks. Lastly, the chicken platter. Jack and Charlie were talking about cooking—Charlie’s trick for the fluffiest pancakes, Jack’s trick for the perfect steak. Apparently, you should soak a freshly grilled steak it in drawn butter. Who knew?

Eagerly, I cut into my chicken, which really was my favorite meal, but when the cheesy center oozed out, I lost the battle. Quickly, I excused myself from the table and went in search of a bathroom. My mother was behind me before I knew it. She guided me to the elegant powder room down the hall from the living room.

Thankfully, she gave me a small piece of space, allowing me to hurl on my own. When I’d emptied what very little was in my stomach and washed my face, my mom let herself in. She gave me that maternal knowing look.

“You know don’t you?” I asked.

“Well, there was last week when you got sick at breakfast. You
are
glowing. And…Twitter. Is it true?”

I closed the lid on the toilet and sat down. “I—I—It wasn’t—” I stammered. Shame and despair again flooding through my mind and heart. My stomach clenched, and had there been anything at all left in there, I’m sure it would have come rising back up.

“Hey, of course you didn’t intend for this to happen,” she soothed. “And the father?”

I groaned, and nodded. “Danny Fitzsimmons. He was my boyfriend at school. He’s from Daytona.”

“You’re sure it was him? I didn’t think you had a boyfriend. At least not ‘just one’ nor one you were sleeping with.”

I nodded again. When I had come in April, I told my mom that that I had been playing the field, casual dating instead of getting serious about one guy. It was my defense against admitting, even to myself, that I had let myself get taken by a douchnozzle. So, now she was thinking that I was a floozy, sleeping around.
Shit! Fuck!
“I actually had only one boyfriend.” I chanced a glance at her. She was surprised. “But I was more faithful than he was. We actually had broken up just before I came here in April.” I bit my lip and looked at her to see how she was taking my little lie from months ago.

She nodded quietly. No judgment. No lecture. The look on her face wasn’t joy, but it wasn’t anger either. Just understanding and strength. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice something was up when you were here in April. I was so wrapped up in my own drama.”

“It’s all good, Mom. I didn’t want you to know. Maybe I should have majored in acting?” I laughed, my mom only somewhat joining in.

Concern clouded her face again and she continued. “When are you due?”

“December twentieth.”

“What is your plan? How can I help?”

I took a deep breath and let it out. She was being amazing. I don’t know what I expected from this exchange, but I don’t think I expected her patience and concern and friendship. “Adoption,” I managed. “I’m going to do the adult thing. I’ve decided that I’m going to give the baby to a couple who want a baby. The only way to make the best of a bad situation.”

“That’s very admirable, honey,” she said rubbing my back.

“Charlie’s adopted. It worked out well for him.”

“Who’s Charlie?”

“Oh. Chase. His real name is Charlie. Chase is his stage name. He was adopted.”

“Really? That’s very interesting.” She rubbed my back for a moment longer. “Honey?” I looked up at her, tears spilling out of my eyes. “I’m proud of you. That’s a very difficult decision.”

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Sweets?” Charlie asked from the other side. I couldn’t help the smile that burst onto my face.

My mom smiled back at me. “You two are adorable.” My mind flashed to the skinny dipping night when Charlie called me
adorkable
and I started to laugh. “I’m going to get you some ginger ale. It’ll help with dinner.” She got up and opened the door. She gave Charlie a loving hug, he looked surprised, then she headed off.

“You okay?” Charlie asked, coming in and taking me in his arms.

“I’ll be fine. She knows. She knew,” I tried to laugh.

“And?”

“She’s… good? She’s taking it well. At least for now.”

Charlie just hugged me. “I love you,” he whispered into my hair.

“I love you, back,” I breathed into his neck.

Dinner finished nearly uneventfully, and I was able to keep food down, thanks to the ginger ale. We avoided conversation about the elephant in the room, instead talking about my internship, upcoming classes, Charlie’s move to New York, oh—and the film premiere on Friday. I still hadn’t decided if I was going, even if Charlie thought it was a foregone conclusion. Jack seemed to think it would be invaluable with a career in communications and PR. He was sure that Valerie would see the same thing and it shouldn’t be a problem.

While my mom prepared dessert, Jack took Charlie and me to the top of his townhouse where we were greeted with a fabulous view of the Chrysler Building. He lit a fire in a large fire pit and we sat in the cushy chairs. Jack poured a drink for himself and offered one to Charlie. He declined.

Sitting next to us, Jack cleared his throat. “So, Choebe’s a cute ‘ship name.’ Do you like it?”
Oh god. He’d been following us on Twitter, too? Oh shit! He follows us on Twitter!!

Charlie took my hand and twined our fingers together. “I could come up with worse ones,” he said smoothly. “Ph-ase. Phee-chay,” he laughed. “Choebe is fine.”

“So, you two are serious,” he said, noting our clasped hands.

“Sir, I’ve never been more serious about a girl. Ever. Phoebe is everything.”

Jack grinned at the two of us. My mom came through the door with a tray piled with ingredients for s’mores, well, the way we make them, which is using Fudge Stripe cookies and marshmallows, instead of graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows. Mom set the tray down and went to sit in the seat next to Jack, but before she sat, Jack took her hand and kissed the back of it. My mother beamed with the attention and leaned in to kiss Jack on the forehead. The two were so sweet and caring with one another that I ‘got it.’ I saw between Jack and my mom what I never saw between my mom and dad. I was sad for my mom and dad, but thrilled for my mom that she finally got what made her happy.