At Your Most Beautiful, Harper Bliss [books to get back into reading .TXT] 📗

grown. The free-flowing champagne might also have helped. It was only then that Maya noticed the red dot on the card next to the artwork. Did that mean someone had bought it? If so, could she find out who? She made a mental note to find the woman who owned the gallery later.

“Between us,” Brooke said, “I don’t think she gets that from Bill. Close as they are, art was never something they bonded over, although Bill always did encourage her to follow her dreams, no matter what they were. I guess that’s coming back to bite him in the ass big time now.” Brooke crossed her arms over her chest and took a step closer to the picture of Maya. “He’s very proud of her for this. For the record, neither one of us would have missed this for the world.”

“I figured as much.”

“It may also surprise you that Bill is having much more trouble accepting this—or no, accepting isn’t even the correct term yet. It’s too soon for anything resembling acceptance. He just can’t even begin to fathom it. I asked him who he was expecting given the women Quinn has dated in the past.” She made a tsking sound. “At least that ghastly woman who broke her heart into a thousand little pieces isn’t here.”

“Morgan?” Maya asked.

“It went on for years and years. I just didn’t understand how Quinn couldn’t see that it was going to end badly. Up to the point that I started wondering what I had done wrong in raising her that she picked a woman like that to be with.” Brooke sighed deeply. “It’s always the mother’s fault, you know.”

“Then I’ll take full credit for how happy Tommy is with Beth.” Maya knew she sounded condescending, but she didn’t care. She had an inkling she should arm herself for whatever Brooke would say next.

“They do make a dashing couple. And you’re a grandmother now as well.” She paused. “What does that make Quinn? Step-granny?”

There it was. “Just say what it is you really want to say, Brooke.”

“Will Tommy be calling a woman who’s barely older than him his stepmom soon?” The pitch of Brooke’s voice rose higher as she spoke—as she got more and more agitated. “Why can’t you see this is not right? You and my Quinn…”

“Quinn is never going to be Tommy’s stepmother. He already has a mother and a father. Parents he has a great relationship with, for your information, because in my family we just want each other to be happy.” Maya knew she sounded smug, especially because her initial fear of Tommy’s response to their relationship had almost driven her and Quinn apart for good.

“Oh, come on, Maya. Put yourself in our position. What if Beth were twenty years older and your former neighbor. A woman you used to share confidences with because you were peers. Because you were friends.”

“Do you mean to say if Beth were you?” Maya was having trouble staying calm—it had been easier on the phone because no one did the reproachful glare better than Brooke Hathaway.

“Yes, actually. That is what I mean to say.” Thank goodness Brooke didn’t have the presence of mind to go same-sex on the comparison.

“I know it’s not easy, Brooke. You’re worried about your daughter.” The problem wasn’t that Maya couldn’t see Brooke’s point of view—she could see it all too well. Maya didn’t have a defense at the ready for this. “As I would be about my own child if he were in Quinn’s situation, but…”

“I understand why you would fall for her. Quinn is an amazing person, but what she sees in you.” Brooke shrugged. “Worst of all, the fact that she’s with you is keeping her from being open to other, more appropriate prospects.”

Why don’t you say what you really feel, Maya thought. “Newsflash, Brooke.” Maya wasn’t going to stand here and be insulted by Quinn’s mother much longer. “Your daughter’s been into older women for a very long time, so if that doesn’t suit you, don’t you dare lay the blame for that on me.” Brooke would probably have a heart attack on the spot if she ever found out what had happened between Quinn and Maya ten years ago.

“Everything okay here?” Maya had never been more relieved to hear her son’s voice.

“Tommy,” Brooke said on a sigh, as though she’d been the one under Maya’s verbal siege and not the other way around.

“Brooke and I have a lot to discuss,” Maya said. “So much has happened since I moved to the city.”

“Too much,” Brooke said. Maya hoped she wasn’t trying to gain Tommy’s sympathies—or worse, trying to turn him against his own mother.

“It’s okay to be a little bit upset, Mrs. Hathaway.” Tommy had the uncanny ability to remain polite in any given situation—another something he got from his father. “But I was just talking to Quinn and, um, well first of all, as far as I can tell, she hasn’t changed a bit since I last saw her, except that this time around she will actually have a real conversation with me.”

Maya felt her eyes well up. This was her son’s perfectly imperfect way of standing up for her. She wished she could have been there when he spoke to Quinn.

“Most importantly, she reminded me that, um, well, life is for living.” He put a hand to his chest. “I could judge my mom for this, but, honestly, after all she has done for me, who am I to deny her even an ounce of happiness?” His voice grew stronger as his impromptu speech progressed. “I can only hope that, in time, you can feel the same way about it.” Tommy put his hand on Maya’s back. “By the way, Mom, Beth and I bought this picture of you.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and walked off, leaving Brooke, but especially Maya, in stunned silence.

Chapter 42

Quinn leaned her elbow on the bar and looked around the gallery.