“Would you be okay with that?”
She sputters on the other end of the line. “Would I be okay with that? Absolutely!”
Across the table Ebba smiles. Despite my phone not being on speaker, I’m sure she has no trouble hearing my mom since she’s practically squealing with excitement.
“Cool. We’ll see you soon, then.”
“I can’t wait. You two enjoy your time in California. And Fisher? Please make sure she stays my daughter-in-law.”
God, I hope Ebba didn’t hear that. “I’m trying, Mom.”
“Good. I love you and give my love to Ebba.”
“I will.”
I hang up and set my phone aside.
Ebba reaches up to smooth her hair down, the bracelets on her wrist jingling together. “Sounds like she was happy we’re coming.”
“Of course she is. She loves you.”
Ebba looks away, focusing on the view of the water. “I feel bad that I never spoke to her again.”
The sadness in her voice takes me aback. “Why? You didn’t owe her anything. She understood.”
“I know.” She frowns. “But your mom—and your dad too—are good people and I just…” She trails off with a shake of her head. “I shut down. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. Especially anyone associated with you.”
I flinch. It’s an involuntary movement I can’t seem to stop and her frown deepens.
Before I can say anything, she says rapidly, “I don’t think I was ready for the changes I’d go through with my hormones on top of the grief I was feeling. It was too much for me to handle. Especially alone.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her she didn’t have to do it all alone. That I would’ve been there for her. But I don’t think it’s what she needs to hear right now. I can’t imagine how she felt during that time. My own thoughts and feelings were all over the place and I didn’t have to endure the same trauma she did.
“I can’t imagine how you felt.”
“I should’ve talked to you. Let you in. I realize that now and I’m sorry it took me so long to see.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her she has nothing to apologize for but at that moment someone appears with our order—setting a BLT and fries down in front of each of us, as well as a piece of tiramisu I had to add on when I spotted it in the display case.
“I didn’t know you ordered that.” She points at the tiramisu.
“It used to be your favorite dessert if you couldn’t get a chocolate malt.”
“How do you remember all these things?” She sounds incredulous. Like she can’t possibly imagine a world in which I remember every detail about her, every conversation we’ve ever had, because I never stopped loving her.
I don’t say that, though. I don’t want to overwhelm her.
Instead, I just smile and say, “I have a good memory.”
CHAPTER 29
EBBA
Fisher opensthe door to our suite the next evening after a dinner with the wedding party. He loosens his tie with practiced ease and lets it dangle around his neck. It’s obnoxiously and annoyingly hot.
I reach down and undo the clasp on one heel. Before I can reach the other, Fisher’s in front of me kneeling down.
“Let me do it,” he says.