Then again this could be nothing more than fantasy she’d conjured up in her own mind.
They walked up the painted blue steps to the small front porch.
“I love this house,” she whispered to him, and he squeezed her hand.
She could see him jumping off that porch onto the narrow side yard or into the bushes. Boys did that.
He opened the door and walked inside. The rooms were cozy and warm, the ceilings high. There was a vintage feel to the home even though an oversize, flat-screen television sat in the living room. And yes, the bay window belonged to the living room.
A diminutive woman came rushing in, wiping her hands on the apron she wore.
“Ty,” she said in a quiet yet excited voice.
Jenna stood back and watched as Ty swept his mother up in an embrace, kissed her cheek, then set her back on the floor.
His mother was nothing short of stunning. China doll features, she had dark hair that she wore pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a beige dress that had to be expensive, and pumps. Jenna was happy she’d dressed up.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” His mother beamed up at him, and the pride Jenna saw on his mother’s face was evident. “Now introduce me to your friend.”
Jenna also noted the word “friend.” Not girlfriend, but friend. His mother wanted distance between Ty and Jenna. Duly noted.
“Mom, this is Jenna Riley. Jenna, this is my mother, Louise Davis.”
Not Anderson? Tyler hadn’t mentioned his mother had remarried, but okay.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs.—”
“You can call me Louise. So nice to meet you, Jenna.”
“Nice to meet you, too, Louise. Your home is beautiful.”
“Thank you. Please come in. Take off your coat and get comfortable. Would you like a cocktail?”
“No, thanks. I’d love to see the house.”
“Of course. Tyler, take her on a tour. I’ll check on dinner. I hope you like beef Wellington, Jenna.”
Wow. “I love it. Thank you.”
Tyler took her hand. “A tour it is. Let’s start upstairs.”
She followed him up the staircase.
He stopped at the top. “There’s really nothing up here.”
She pushed at his chest. “Shut up. I want to see your house.”
He rolled his eyes and led her down the hall. “This is my mom’s room.”
It was perfect. Cozy and feminine, with a mauve bedspread, muted, earth-toned pillows, an antique dresser, and a bath off to the side. The room was painted a light beige, with eggshell wainscoting.
“I could so live in that room. Did your mom decorate it?”
“That’s her thing. Seems to me like it’s a different color every time I come home.”
She laughed. “You know what they say about a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.”
“Yeah, well, Mom likes to do that plenty.”
They moved down the hall to another room. “Sewing room. This is where she does that fabric and sewing machine stuff.”
The room was filled with fabric. Lush jeweled colors and muted beiges. There was a sitting area and a work area, books on design and fabric. Even though it wasn’t Jenna’s area of expertise, the female in her squealed with delight.
“Oh, it’s lovely.”
“Girl stuff.”
She rolled her eyes at Ty and they walked on down the hall. “This is my room. Prepare yourself.”
He opened the door and it was as if time had stood still. It was precious. A twin bed sat under the double window and the room was painted a bright blue. Trophies of all kinds filled the shelves on the walls. A small desk cornered one end of the room. Photos of Ty at different ages filled several shelves on the walls. She stepped in the room and scanned the photographs of Tyler missing a front tooth, one of him with his hair falling over his eyes like it still did today, and one of him as a baby.
She put her hand over her heart and looked up at him. “This is so sweet.”
“I’ve tried to get her to let me pack up all this stuff and put it in the attic, but she won’t let me. It’s creepy.”
“It is not. She obviously loves you.”
“She could turn this into a guest room.”
Jenna sat on his bed. “Why would she?”
“Because people need to move on. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“Maybe she loves these memories of you. Look at all these trophies and certificates.” She stood and scanned the framed certificates listing Ty’s accomplishments on the Honor roll, dean’s list, even his academic scholarship letters.
She turned to him. “Weren’t you a smarty?”
He crossed his arms. “Not just a dumb jock, ya know.”
She was learning more about him every day, and she liked what she saw.
“Your mother is very proud of you.”
“She could be proud of me by putting my crap in a scrapbook.”
She laughed. “My parents have the trophy room in our house. Stuff from Mick and Gavin and my childhood, all the way through high school and college. Remind me to show it to you sometime.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. A room dedicated just to us kids and our accomplishments. So believe me, it’s not just your mom. And it’s as embarrassing for us as it is for you. Some parents like to show off their kids. Your mother is not creepy.”
He shrugged. “Maybe not. But I’d be happier if this room had a futon and maybe an elliptical in it. Something for my mom. It’s like I died or something and she’s afraid to touch anything in here. She’s enshrined it.”
Jenna snorted. “It’s a parent thing. Get over it.”
They went back downstairs and through the dining room, which held a tableclothed rectangular cherry table with matching china cabinet and hutch. The furniture had to be antique. Ty led her through the doorway into the kitchen, which obviously had been remodeled. There were dark gray granite countertops, cherry cabinetry, and stainless-steel appliances as well as lots of open window space.
“Oh, I love your kitchen, Louise.”
She turned and smiled. “Thank you. When I’m not sewing I’m trying out a new recipe, so I spend a lot of time in here. I remodeled a couple years ago, got rid of the ancient appliances and tacky countertops. Out with the old, in with the new is what I say.”
“Except for my room,” Ty grumbled.