The Good, the Bad, and the Gwen | ✔️

15 - The Knife in Mom's Back

Sleep doesn't come easy. Between listening to Hartley puke her guts up in the bathroom and obsessively mulling over the details of my upcoming date, I'm lucky I closed my eyes at all. And even though she must have been hungover, Hartley still nudges me when her phone alarms a few hours later, expecting to go for a run. Again, I try to dissuade her and again she resists.

After our arduous journey down the longest road in the world, I hop into the shower and when I get out, Hartley has something waiting for me.

"I made breakfast," she announces, handing over a plate.

I stare at it in surprise. "French toast?"

"Not just French toast. Vegan blueberry French toast." She looks smug. "Made from scratch."

I'm impressed. "Made from scratch?"

She smiles. "Not really. But it is made with love."

Her thoughtful gesture touches me. But I only see one plate and wonder if she's still feeling sick. "Aren't you eating?"

"I already did. Had to make sure I wasn't about to poison you."

"Mmmm, what smells so good?" Penny pokes her head into the kitchen, her eyes heavy with sleep.

"I made French toast," Hartley says as she sits down at the table. "Want some?"

Her mother's eyebrows shoot up. "You made breakfast?"

"Is it really so shocking?"

"No—I think it's great." She smiles. I feel like she wants to say more but decides against it. "In that case, I think I'll try to catch Jolie's next class before filming this week's video. Today's topic: Making Sense of Scents," she says, spreading her hands out in front of her as though the title's in lights. "Will you be able to entertain yourselves without me?"

Hartley makes an irritated face. "We'll be fine, Mom."

"Great. I'm gonna change and head out then. Don't forget you have a doctor's appointment this afternoon."

"Like you'd let me forget," she says, rolling her eyes.

Penny gives her a funny look and then disappears around the corner. I take a seat across from Hartley and stab my fork into a thick slice of bread. "This is really good," I tell her in between bites. "When did you learn to cook?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "I like to watch cooking channels on YouTube."

"I didn't know there was such a thing. I only subscribe to animal videos."

"You can find anything on YouTube if you look hard enough." She watches with interest as I scoop another bite into my mouth. "So, you really like it?"

"I love it." I sink my teeth into a warm berry, enjoying the tang as it squishes across my tongue. "Do you like it?"

Her finger traces the outline of grain on the wood table. "Blueberries are my favorite." She doesn't look up. "What time's your date with Sully?"

Holy crap. Sully! Anxiety twists in my stomach. Again. "Around three-thirty. What time's your doctor's appointment?"

"Two. But Virginia always runs late."

"Who's Virginia?"

"My psychiatrist. She says calling her by her first name promotes trust." She snorts. "I think it's a load of shit but she means well."

I dab a napkin to the corner of my mouth. "Do you think you'll be back in time to help me get ready?"

"I wouldn't count on it." Her eyes finally meet mine. "But I can help before I leave. Where's he taking you?"