Chapter 151 Shifting Roles
Chapter 151 Shifting Roles
Nathan：POV
I gave Nash one last scratch behind his ears, watching him purr contentedly on his cat bed. The professional pet-sitter I'd hired came highly recommended, but I still felt oddly anxious about leaving him.
"His food needs to be room temperature," I explained. "And he likes to sleep on the left side of the bed, or sometimes under it if there's a thunderstorm."
"Nathan." Mia's gentle voice interrupted my detailed instructions. She stood in the doorway, overnight bag slung over her shoulder, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Nash will be fine."
I cleared my throat, suddenly aware of how absurd I must sound fussing over a cat like an anxious parent. After giving Nash a final goodbye, I grabbed my briefcase and followed Mia out the door.
---
I stared out the small oval window of the private jet, watching clouds drift by beneath us. My heart was racing, and not because of the altitude. Today I wasn't coming as "Uncle Nathan" but as... what exactly? Mia's boyfriend? Partner? The terminology felt foreign in my mind.
Across from me, Mia was absorbed in reading through medical files, her brow creased in concentration. Dr. Ramirez had sent over his preliminary thoughts based on Jennifer's records. I watched her fingers trace the lines of text, occasionally making notes in the margins.
The thought of facing Jennifer made my stomach clench. I'd known her for years as Camellia's mother, as a close family friend.
Now I was arriving as the man dating her daughter. I couldn't imagine any mother being entirely comfortable with that transition, especially given our age difference and history.
Mia must have sensed my anxiety because she looked up from her papers. "You're thinking about how Jennifer will react, aren't you?"
I nodded. "Any mother would have concerns about this situation."
"It's not just the age difference," I admitted. "It's that I've known you since you were young. I was supposed to be looking out for you, not..."
"Not falling in love with me?" she finished, her voice soft but steady.
The word "love" hung in the air between us. We hadn't used that word yet, though my feelings for her were undeniable. I cleared my throat, uncomfortable with how exposed I felt.
"You didn't 'watch me grow up,' Nathan," Mia said, moving to sit beside me. She placed her hand over mine on the armrest. "You visited a few times a year. You were busy building your empire. I was just Camellia's cousin who you were occasionally nice to."
Her touch was warm. "Besides," she continued, "Mom is seven years younger than my father was. She understands age gaps better than most."
I raised an eyebrow. "That's hardly the same as our situation."
"The point is," she squeezed my hand, "she values happiness and authenticity over convention. And right now, her health is our primary concern anyway."
Suddenly, Mia pointed at the window. "Look at that cloud! Doesn't it look exactly like Nash?"
I followed her finger, squinting at a vaguely feline-shaped puff of white. "I don't see it."
"There! The ears, the tail..." she traced the outline against the glass. Then she pointed to another formation. "And that one looks like a sailboat."
I smiled despite myself. Her imagination was contagious. "What about that one?" I asked, pointing to a particularly shapeless blob.
"Hmm," she studied it seriously. "That's clearly a magical castle with three towers and a moat."
"Obviously," I agreed, playing along. "And I suppose that wispy bit is the dragon guarding it?"
"Of course!" She beamed at me, eyes sparkling. "You're getting better at this cloud-watching business."
As she continued finding shapes in the clouds, I realized what she was doing - deliberately distracting me from my anxious thoughts. The gesture was so thoughtful that I felt warmth spread through my chest.
"It should be me trying to cheer you up," I said, then caught myself mid-thought. What should I call Jennifer now? Jennifer? Ms. Lawrence?
Mia noticed my hesitation. "What's wrong?"
"I just realized I don't know what to call your mother anymore," I admitted. "It seems weird to call her 'Jennifer' now, but 'Ms. Lawrence' feels too formal after all these years."
Mia's laugh was gentle. "Just call her Jennifer, like you always have. Nothing has to change there."
I nodded, though everything felt like it was changing.
---
After landing in Los Angeles, we collected our luggage and I guided Mia toward the waiting car. The California sun was bright, and Mia slipped on her sunglasses, the oversized frames making her look like a 1960s movie star.
"I was thinking," I said as we settled into the back seat, "we should stop somewhere before heading to your mother's place."
Mia tilted her head. "To get a gift, you mean?"
"Something like that," I nodded, directing the driver to Beverly Hills. "What does she like?"
"Mom's not really big on material things," Mia replied, "but she does love a good cup of tea. Especially now that coffee upsets her stomach with the medication."
Twenty minutes later, we were walking into an upscale organic market. The store smelled of essential oils and fresh produce, with soft ambient music playing in the background.
"Does your mom prefer any particular kind of tea?" I asked, standing before a wall of options.
"She loves white tea," Mia said, picking up a delicate silver tin. "And green tea. Oh, and ginger tea when her stomach is bothering her."
I began selecting various tins - not just the ones Mia mentioned, but others labeled for immunity, digestion, and relaxation.
Soon my arms were full of tea, organic honey, high-grade olive oil, and supplements the store clerk had recommended for cancer patients.
"You don't need to buy out the entire store," Mia said with a gentle smile.
"I just want to bring useful things," I explained, feeling defensive. "Things that might actually help her feel better."
After paying for our haul, I noticed a bookstore next door. "Does your mom read much these days?"
"Historical novels, mostly," Mia replied. "She says they help her escape."
We spent another half hour selecting several historical fiction titles with strong female protagonists. Back in the car, surrounded by purchases, I turned to Mia. "Do you think I'm trying too hard? Trying to buy her approval?"
Mia considered this, then nodded. "A little bit. But I think it's sweet."
I sighed. "I want her to know I care about her wellbeing. That I'm not just..." I trailed off.
"Not just with me for my youth and beauty?" Mia teased, but her eyes were kind.
"Something like that," I admitted. "I want her to know this isn't casual for me."
Mia reached across the seat and took my hand. "She'll see that. Mom's always been good at reading people."
That was exactly what I was afraid of.
---
The driver pulled up to a quiet street in Brentwood where Jennifer's modest two-story home stood, its front yard blooming with roses and lavender.
I'd been here many times before, but never like this, never with my heart pounding like I was some teenager meeting his girlfriend's parents for the first time.
"It'll be fine," Mia said, squeezing my hand as we got out of the car.
I nodded stiffly, gathering our bags. Each step up the garden path felt heavier than the last. By the time we reached the front door, my pulse was racing.
Mia reached out to ring the doorbell, then glanced back at me with a reassuring smile. "It's going to be okay, I promise."
The door swung open, and there stood Jennifer Lawrence. She looked thinner than when I'd last seen her, her face pale despite the California sunshine.
Her blonde hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she wore a simple linen dress that hung loosely on her frame. But her eyes were as sharp and intelligent as ever, taking in the scene before her - first her daughter, then me, then all the bags we carried.
“Nathan,” she said, her eyes moving between him and Mia with a complex expression. “Mia told me you were coming, but seeing you here... thank you for being with her.”