Saturday seemed a good time, when neither of them were in a rush to go somewhere. They had all day to hide from each other if things got really ugly. She’d been about to tackle it last night and had sought out her mother in her bedroom, only to find her sobbing over Dad’s clothes. Yeah, not such a good time.

Even now, her stomach churned with the coffee she’d just had for breakfast, unable to face food.

When her mother came downstairs, Samara waited until she was seated in the breakfast room with her omelet, coffee and newspaper and wandered in.

“Oh, good morning, Samara.” Her mom’s smile actually hurt her. “What are you up to today?”

“I... um...need to do some shopping.”

Which wasn’t totally procrastinating on broaching the subject. It was true. She either needed to go home to San Francisco and pack some clothes or go on a major shopping trip if she was going to be staying in Portland for a while. There was no way she wanted to go all the way to San Francisco and back when she had so much work to do.

“Oh, let me take you shopping, Samara!” Her mother’s face brightened. “I’ll take you to that little shop I mentioned, and there are some sweet places right near there you’d like.”

“That’s okay,” Samara muttered. “I don’t want to spend all afternoon looking at clothes. I just want somewhere I can get in, buy a couple of suits, and get out.”

“Oh, please. It’ll be fun. I haven’t had my daughter around for so long to do that with. We used to have so much fun shopping together. Remember? I’ve missed that. And we could go out for lunch.”

The soft look in her mother’s eyes dented Samara’s resistance, and she let out a sigh. Yeah, she did remember the fun they’d used to have. “Fine. We’ll go shopping.” Over lunch would be a good time to talk.

In the first shop her mother dragged her into, she found enough items she liked—pretty little suits and blouses—that she could have been finished. Mom had been right about the shoes; they had gorgeous pumps and sandals. Seduced by silky fabrics and stiletto heels, Samara gave in to the experience and let her mother bring her outfit after outfit to try on.

“Oh, you look so beautiful in that,” she breathed, studying Samara in a silk dress. “You have to have that one.”

“I can’t afford all these, Mom.”

“I’ll buy it for you. I’ll buy everything for you.”

Samara’s insides tightened. It had been so long it was hard to get over the idea that she didn’t want anything from her mother, but guilt and remorse ate away at her resistance, and she found herself sighing yet again and agreeing. Strangely, the pleasure her mother seemed to get from it actually made her feel...good.

She left the store loaded down with garment bags and shoe boxes that they loaded into the trunk of her mother’s Lexus.

“We can drive to the next store,” Mom said, hopping into the driver’s seat. “It’s not far but too far to walk.”

“I don’t need to go anywhere else, Mom, I got enough stuff there.”

“But this other place has gorgeous designer jeans.”

“I have a pair of jeans.”

Mom slanted her a sideways glance as she accelerated up Market Street. “You can always use another nice pair of jeans.”

Samara couldn’t help the smile. “Fine. Are you going to buy anything for yourself?”

Her mother lifted a shoulder. “Probably not. There’s not really anything I need. This is your shopping trip.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’

Mom smiled. “Yes. I am. Is there something wrong with that? I have a beautiful daughter, and I’ve missed spoiling you the last few years.” Her voice caught on her last words, and she swallowed and stared straight ahead out the window.

Spoiling you. Samara recalled Travis’s assertion that she was spoiled rotten. Maybe she had been. But that was a long time ago, and she’d been independent and on her own for a long time.

“You should buy yourself something nice too,” Samara choked out, that guilt chewing away at her insides. “A new pair of shoes or something.”

“Maybe.”

Two pairs of jeans, three trendy little tops and two pairs of shoes later, they walked into a lingerie store.

“Mom, I don’t need this kind of stuff!” Samara glanced around at the abundance of satin and lace displayed on hangers and counters.

“It’s underwear, Samara. If you only planned to stay for a few days, you must need underwear.”

“Well...” Samara blew out a breath. Okay, yeah, some panties and a couple of bras would be good. But lord, she didn’t need a freakin’ black velvet corset or silky nightgown.

But a silky nightgown was what she ended up with, thanks to her mother, along with a cute pair of plaid shorts and matching tank top that served as pajamas and a pile of silky thongs, lace boy shorts and matching bras in yellow, peach, and turquoise. As she held up each little garment, she couldn’t help but wonder what Travis would think. Her stomach swooped, imagining him removing the little turquoise thong panties and matching lace bra from her body...

“Samara?”

She blinked at her mother.

“What’s wrong?” Mom asked, her forehead creasing. “I just asked you twice if you’re ready to have lunch.”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “Oh. Um. Sorry. I was thinking about...work.”

Mom gave her an odd look. “Let’s have lunch now,” she said. “I know just the place.”

They walked to the restaurant, only two blocks away. The small place was nearly full, and a delicious aroma of dark roasted coffee and toasted bread greeting them as they walked in. Trust her mother to pick a place that served great coffee. Samara could tell just from the smell.

They were shown to one of the last tables, a small one for two in the middle of the restaurant.

Samara waited until they’d almost finished eating before bringing up the subject she needed to. She’d procrastinated long enough. It wasn’t going to get any easier.

“Mom.”

“Mmm?”

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“What is it, sweetie?”

Samara looked down at her half-eaten salad. “I— I screwed up really bad. And I have to apologize.”

Her mother’s forehead wrinkled. “What is it?”

Samara drew in a long slow breath. “When I left home seven years ago, I left because I was mad at you.”

Mom went very still. “We’re going to do this now?” She looked down at the table and gave a short nod. “Okay. Obviously you were mad. You didn’t even want to talk to me.” Her voice cracked. “I never knew what I did that made you so angry.”

Mom had tried calling, emailing, had even come with Dad once to visit her. Guilt struck another heavy blow at Samara. She couldn’t think of any soft way to say it, so she just blurted it out. “I thought you were having an affair with Travis.”

Her mom stared wide-eyed across the table at her. The noises of the restaurant—chattering voices, clinking cutlery, light music—filled the silence between them. Mom’s brows drew down. “Travis? An affair with Travis? Why on earth would you think that?”

“I overheard you two talking one day. It was just after...oh, god, this is so embarrassing.”

Mom said nothing, her mouth pressed into a firm line, but her expression told Samara to keep going.

“I had a big crush on Travis back then,” she confessed, nearly choking on the words. She studied her mom’s expression. Had she known that? “One night, I told him that. I kissed him. He...” He’d kissed her back. She’d never forget that. But... “He rejected me. Of course. Said I was too young for him.”

Still Mom said nothing, but her mouth softened.

“I was pretty devastated about that. I thought I was in love with him.”

“Oh, Samara.”

“Then a few days later, I overheard you and Travis talking about hurting Dad, and Travis was saying he was sorry...” She related the rest of what she’d heard.

Mom’s eyes closed, and she looked as if Samara had just picked up her fork and stabbed her with it. Her throat worked, and then she opened her eyes. “How could you think such a thing?”

“I was hurt. I was young. I was stupid. I don’t know.” She paused. “I guess I was just so hurt by his rejection that was the first thing I thought when I heard you talking, and I grabbed onto it and I...I felt like you’d stolen him away from me.”

Her mother’s eyes closed on a flash of pain that echoed in Samara’s chest.

“How could you think that?” Mom whispered. “That’s awful.”

“I know.” The words barely made it past her dry lips and painful throat. “But that was how I felt.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

“Travis told me it wasn’t true. And I knew I had to apologize for acting like such an idiot all these years. Oh, Mom.” Her voice fractured. “I’m so sorry.”

Her heart hurt so badly she could barely think straight. Her hands trembled as she waited for her mother to say something.

Her mother was silent for several agonizing moments before she spoke. “Seven years, Samara. You thought your heart was broken? Well, you broke mine. We were so close. I love you so much. Do you know how much it hurt me for you to turn away from me like that? And for me to have no idea why?”

“I—I think I know. It hurt me too, Mom. I missed you. But I just couldn’t forgive you for doing that to me. And to Dad.”

“Did you ever think I deserved to at least know what I’d done? If only you’d come to me… We could have cleared that all up seven years ago. Why didn’t you come to me?”

Samara fiddled with her cutlery. “Because it hurt.” Tears thickened her voice. “Yeah, I was angry that you cheated on Dad. But it hurt so much that Travis had just rejected me, and yet he was with you. I was...jealous.” It was so hard to admit that, even to herself, that the word came out barely audible. Jealous of her own mother.

“But he wasn’t with me, Samara.” Her mother’s voice softened. “That never happened.”

“I know that now.” Samara wiped a tear with her fingertips and reached for her water goblet, hoping to wash down the painful lump in her throat. She drank the cold water, her throat raw and aching. “But then I just hurt so bad. But you’re totally right. I only realized that lately, even before I found out the truth, that I didn’t handle it very well. It just seemed the longer it all went on, the more entrenched I got into the whole ‘poor me, poor Dad, how could they do that to us?’ thing.”

More sticky silence stretched between them.

“I was going to talk to you,” Samara continued. “Even before I found out the truth. I know I should have talked to you back then. I was stubborn and stupid.” She paused. “Do you think you can forgive me?”

Her mother blinked slowly. Thought about it. “I don’t know,” she finally said, and Samara’s heart sank. “I’m just so...hurt and angry that you would think that.” She looked off to the side and closed her eyes briefly. “And that you held that inside you all that time. For no reason.”

“I’m sorry.” Samara looked down at the table.

Mom sighed. “I love you, Samara. I also know you and how stubborn and independent you are. How you tend to jump to conclusions sometimes.”

“I’m working on that,” Samara mumbled.

“I think...I might need a while. I can’t believe that you would think I would do such a thing. I can’t believe you put me through that...” Mom lifted a hand to her face and rubbed her forehead. She swallowed hard. “Well. Just telling me about this whole mess is a huge step. I’m proud of you for that at least, Samara.”

She didn’t feel like she deserved her mother’s pride at that moment; she felt like a crumb on the floor the restaurant.

Mom swiped at a tear. “I just wish we hadn’t lost all those years.”

“I’m so sorry.” Samara reached across the table and took her mom’s hand. “I really, really am.” She held her mother’s gaze, and her mom nodded. “But Mom… What was that conversation about? I asked Travis, and he wouldn’t tell me. He says he doesn’t remember.”

Her mother avoided Samara’s eyes. “Oh, Sam. It was something else entirely.”

“Then what was it?”

Mom bit her lip. “It was a business thing. Travis thought Parker was…oh, this is such old water under the bridge. Travis, for some reason, thought Parker was doing something illegal. But he wasn’t.”

“Illegal? That’s crazy. Why didn’t Dad just tell him that?”

“He tried. But…uh…” Mom paused and struggled for a moment. “Parker was very hurt that Travis would think that about him. You know, this might be something…I’m not sure how much to say about this. Now that your father’s gone.”