start dating and, possibly, get serious.
“You’re not a lesbian, are you?” her mother asked.
Phoenix slammed the drawer after getting them each a fork. “Stop. No.”
“Did those women in that prison ever try to touch you?” Lizzie accepted her plate grudgingly, but Phoenix guessed that, deep down, she enjoyed the care she was receiving. At any rate, Phoenix hoped she did. It wasn’t readily apparent, wasn’t as if her mother ever said anything to show her appreciation.
“Did they?”
“No,” Phoenix insisted, but that wasn’t strictly true. Although no one had gotten very far, in the beginning she’d had to fight to keep herself from being used—and that had earned her some dangerous enemies, which hadn’t made the time she’d served any easier.
“So you still like men.”
Phoenix refused to meet her eyes. She was afraid her mother was saying, So you still like Riley, and she wasn’t going anywhere close to that question. She didn’t like Riley, not in that way. Anyone would think he was handsome, because he was. “Right now I’m only interested in Jacob, okay? I’ll worry about everything else in a couple of years.”
“You’re what...thirty-five?” Her mother spoke around the bite she’d just taken. “That’s getting up there, but you could have more children if you don’t wait too long.”
The toast popped up. Grateful for the distraction, Phoenix turned to butter it. “I’d better figure out how to support myself first.”
“You look like you’re doin’ fine to me, all dolled up in those tight jeans. They must’ve cost a pretty penny.”
She’d been thinking she’d help support her mother if she could. Lizzie had trouble getting by on her disability check. But that comment made her wonder why she’d even consider it. “They were a gift.”
“From who?”
Phoenix hadn’t been planning to tell her mother about last night. But if she did, maybe Lizzie would quit reminding her how much everyone hated her. It was difficult to hear, even though, for all intents and purposes, it was true. “Kyle Houseman.”
Her mother’s fork clanged on her plate. “Why would Kyle Houseman give you anything?”
“To be nice,” she said with a shrug.
“Don’t you believe it!” she scoffed. “He’s Riley’s friend.”
Already, she regretted revealing her secret. “I’m aware of that.”
“Then why would you accept anything from him? If you get involved with Kyle, you can kiss your chances of a relationship with Jacob goodbye. Riley won’t put up with you messin’ around with his friends.”
“I’m not going to be ‘messing around.’ Kyle’s not coming on to me, Mom.”
Her mother gave her a “stop lying to yourself” look. “Then what is he doing?”
“Trying to be generous, I guess.” She wasn’t really sure. He just didn’t seem as judgmental as everyone else. Or maybe he wasn’t as close to Lori’s family.
“No one’s that generous to an ex-con,” her mother said. “He expects a return on his money, or he wouldn’t have spent it.”
“That’s so jaded!”
“I’d rather be jaded than a fool who learns the hard way.”
Phoenix could no longer taste her eggs, but she shoveled them down, anyway. “He’s a friend,” she muttered. “And I could use a friend right now.”
Her mother hooted, making Phoenix feel like the biggest idiot in the world. “He’s the kind of friend who’d like to get inside your pants and then drop you on your ass the same way Riley did. Boys like Riley and Kyle don’t date girls like you, Phoenix. It’s time you faced up to that. It’ll save you a lot of heartache later.”
Her mother just had to be crass. “I don’t even want them,” she said, and left her plate in the sink instead of cleaning up because she couldn’t bear to remain in Lizzie’s presence.
* * *
It was a lazy Sunday morning, the kind of perfect spring day when people breezed in and out of Black Gold Coffee in twos, threes or fours, talking and laughing. The laid-back feel of the place, as well as the trendy atmosphere with its wooden floors and chalkboard menu, helped take the edge off the residual anger Phoenix felt after that encounter with her mother. Lizzie had issues. Phoenix tried hard not to let them affect her. Still, there were times when Lizzie’s negativity washed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to drown her. She had so much difficulty dealing with her mother. Even when she was young it had been tough. At least prison had taken her out of that situation, not that she ever wanted to go back to living behind bars.
Now she was getting a short break from Lizzie and using the internet, as she’d wanted, but she couldn’t completely relax. Whenever she was in public she worried about running into a member of Lori’s family. She felt certain the Mansfields would cause a scene. So far, she’d been lucky. She hadn’t bumped into them—or Riley’s parents, who’d come out in such strong opposition to her seventeen years ago.
Coop, a friend she’d met in prison, would call a reprieve like that “a tender mercy,” and Phoenix was inclined to agree. Coop spotted tender mercies everywhere. Although she readily admitted to shooting her father when she caught him molesting her two-year-old daughter, and had three years left on her sentence, she managed to retain her optimism and keep fighting. It was her encouragement that’d helped Phoenix through her darkest times. You’re young and you’re beautiful and you’ll get out of here someday, she used to say. Then you can do anything you want with your life, and don’t let anyone tell you different.
For a second, it was almost as if she could hear Coop’s voice. That brought on a moment of nostalgia, made her miss Coop and a few of her other friends.
She decided to write them. She’d promised she would. But first she had to set up a Facebook account, she told herself, and focused more intently on the screen.
She wasn’t particularly good with a computer. She had barely enough knowledge and experience to be able to post her bracelets on Etsy and eBay, to manage her PayPal account and to respond to the people who contacted her, but millions of others had gotten on to the social networking giant, and she was sure she could figure it out, too.
The only problem was the bell that jingled over the door whenever anyone walked in or out. It was distracting. That noise signaled a change in her environment, alerted her to something new and potentially dangerous, and that made her tense—until she saw another individual or small group she didn’t recognize.
Fortunately, she had her coffee, so she could sit in the corner and try to go unnoticed behind her computer screen.
She was reading Facebook’s instructions when the bell went off yet again. She leaned to one side to see who it was—and did a double take. The last person she’d expected to come walking through that door was Jacob. He strolled in with a friend, both of them wearing beanies and looking so cute she couldn’t help feeling a sense of pride. That was her boy and he was big and handsome and smart. He seemed like a really nice person, too.
But she didn’t want to put him on the spot. She was afraid that singling him out might embarrass him. So she kept working as if she hadn’t noticed him. She thought he and his friend would grab their lattes or whatever they were getting and head out without glancing in her direction. But Jacob spotted her while they were waiting for their order and surprised her by saying, “Hey! It’s my mom.”
He’d spoken loudly enough that it would seem strange if she didn’t look up. So she met his gaze and smiled. She was just trying to decide if she should walk over, or if he’d rather she just waved. But she didn’t