“Mom,” I admonish.
“Two creams, one sugar.”
She frowns at Neil’s response. “I’m trying to watch my sugar intake. You know that Type 2 diabetes is wreaking havoc in our communities. You probably shouldn’t be drinking so much sugar, either, Desiree.”
Before I can respond, she takes the cup of coffee out of my hands.
“With the amount of baking you’re doing lately, you have to be mindful of how much taste testing you do as well. All of that sugar and flour is not good for the hips.”
I sigh, used to my mother’slovingjabs of encouragement.
“Her hips are fine,” Neil asserts, his voice low but forceful. His eyes intently stare at my mother, almost daring her to say anything even remotely disparaging.
I swallow the lump in my throat, caused by the tension in the room. “Mom, as Neil said, tonight he and I are going to a holiday party, so I won’t be able to go with you to dinner. Maybe we can plan for something next week?”
“Next week is Thanksgiving.”
My hopeful smile drops.How could I have forgotten?We were less than a week away from one of my favorite days of the year.
“Then, of course, we’ll be seeing each other this week.”
“Hmm,” she comments.
I don’t know what to make of that, but instead of trying to decipher it, I say, “Maybe Aunt Rachel is up for lunch or dinner with you today.” My Aunt Rachel is one of my mother’s closest friends. She lost her husband a few years ago and would most likely be available for spending the day with my mother.
“I may give her a call.”
“Good. I bet she wants to get out of the house.” I, not so discreetly, make my way to the door, pulling it open.
Though my mother appears as if she wants to remain to have all the questions swirling around in her eyes answered, she takes the hint. Striding over to the door with her head held high, she pauses in front of me. Leaning in, she kisses my cheek before stepping over the threshold of my apartment.
“I’ll give you a call later this week to finalize the Thanksgiving menu. You are still coming over for Thanksgiving, aren’t you?” Her eyes shoot over my shoulder, and I know she’s staring at Neil. He hasn’t moved from the living room. I don’t have to glance over my shoulder to know he’s still there. I can feel his presence. It’s uncanny how attached I feel to him.
“Yes,” I answer, hugging her before pulling back.
“Great. I’ll talk to you then.” My mother gives me one last look up and down and then turns to leave.
I release the breath I held the entire time she was here and close the door, falling back against it.
Neil lowers the two coffee mugs to my wooden coffee table before moving to stand in front of me. He places his hands at either side of my head, leaning down so that his face hovers above mine.
“Is she always so friendly in the morning?”
I grin. “She was just taken by surprise.”
“I bet. Does she normally do pop-ups like that?”
I shake my head. “Not usually so early, but then again, I’m home when she does her casual drop-ins, so …” I shrug, chalking her early morning visit to me not being home when she popped in the week before.
“She doesn’t call before coming over?”
I let out a laugh. “I tried to establish that rule early on when I first moved out after college, but my mother does what she wants.” I shake my head and roll my eyes a little. “What about your parents?”
“What about them?”
“What are they like?” I fold my arms over my chest, recalling that Neil has met both of my parents, under much different circumstances, but he met them.
Leaning down, he brushes his lips against my cheek, causing me to smile because his beard tickles my skin. “You’ll get a chance to find out tonight,” he growls right before biting my earlobe.
