Page 63 of Mom Com

“Mom?” he says, looking up at me. Jake has the good sense to let me answer.

Shit. This is not how I wanted Spence to find out. It was supposed to come from me in a controlled way, and while I realize the fault is solely mine, I also thought I was doing the right thing, making it less complicated by waiting. But now...

I scratch my eyebrow, all my worries about making the right decision barreling in. “So, you remember how I told you that Grandma wanted to talk to me about Grandpa’s will?”

He nods. “Yeah, you did that like a week and a half ago.”

“Right, well it had to do with the bakery, which is why I’ve started going there in the mornings.”

His eyebrows push together. “Okay...” he says like he’s thinking about it.

“The thing is,” I start, “your grandfather decided he wanted me and Wilder to have it.”

“Wait, Grandpa left you the bakery?” Spence asks and there’s a warning in his tone.

“Half of it, yes.”

“Grandpa left you the bakeryand you didn’ttell me?” he says like I betrayed him.

“It’s complicated.”

“Saying,Hey Spence, you know that dream I’ve always had about owning a bakery, well now I do, is complicated?”

Jake laughs before he catches himself and tries to cover it with a cough. “Sorry, but wow is he your kid.”

Spence, however, isn’t looking at his dad and he certainly isn’t laughing; he’s staring at me.

“What’s complicated is that in order to keep the bakery I have to work there for a year,” I say, and his face shifts from hurt to shock.

“Wait,what?!”

I close my eyes for a split second, acutely feeling the hole I’ve dug. “Your grandpa specified in his will that in order to claim the inheritance, I have to live in Haverberry for a year.”

I can feel his panic, even before I see it in his expression. “You mean we.Wehave to live in Haverberry for a year.”

“Yes, you’re right.”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me this? How could you keep this a secret? What about my friends; what about my school?” He’s so upset that his little chin starts to shake. “Were you just going to make this decision without me?”

“No, I was going to talk to you about it,” I say, realizing how lame those words sound in retrospect.

His face scrunches and he sniffs, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t believe you.”

“Spence—” I start, well aware we’re headed for a total meltdown. I reach out to comfort him.

But he moves out of my grasp. “Don’t,” he says, voice wavering, stepping back even farther. “You’re lying. You promised you’d never lie!” He makes for the door, jogging up the steps and slipping inside. He doesn’t scream at me or call me names and he doesn’t slam the door, which in a way makes it worse. He’s the most reasonable nine-year-old in the world and his disappointment strikes harder than anything else.

“I feel bad. I didn’t know he didn’t know,” Jake says, but I shake my head.

“Thanks, but this mess is mine,” I say, heading for the door.

I say a fast goodbye to Jake, and he gets in his truck. Only when I go back inside, Spence isn’t upstairs face-planted on the bed or burrowed under a pillow, he’s on the couch with my mother, crying into her shoulder, and the visual gives me a start. It’s not that I expect her to be standoffish, but I can’t help but notice that she’s warmer with him than she ever was with me, stroking his head and shushing him.

“Spence?” I say, softening my voice as I walk into the living room. “Want to come upstairs and talk to me about what just happened? I’d really like to explain.”

He shakes his head and my heart sinks. There have only been a couple of times that he’s refused to speak to me, and I know from past experiences that pushing him to do so only makes things worse.

But then he says the thing I never thought I’d hear in a million years. “I want to talk to Grandma.”