I tossed back the drink. As usual, the ginger burned a little as it went down. "What does hmm mean?"
"We went over the wedding budget by a few thousand dollars, and he's being a pain."
"Do you need help?" I asked.
"No, no, it's fine. We'll figure it out."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure, I promise. Forget I mentioned it." She waved her hand dismissively. "Did you hear from the landlord yet?"
"Oh, I haven't had a chance to tell you because we haven't seen each other. They accepted our proposal!"
"That's fantastic!"
"I know. I can't believe it." I then explained what would happen next.
"You took the lead, didn't you? So your ideas won them over."
"Well, they weren't only my ideas," I hedged. I poured myself a glass of orange juice.
"I know Leslie and Mr. Morris helped, but you did a lot of work on the project. You should be proud."
"I am proud, but I can't take all the credit, like I said. I had help, other than Leslie and Tyler."
"Who else helped you?"
I hesitated. Jamison and I agreed we needed to tell the kids about our relationship, but we deemed it best to wait until after the wedding, which was only two weeks away.
"Manuel's father. Jamison." I drank the juice and then placed the glass on the counter.
"Oh."
That one word carried a lot of weight. Neither of us spoke for a while.
"It's great that you're getting along so well," Blossom said. "Interestingly enough, Manuel said his father took yoga a while back, and he had never done that before or shown any interest in yoga."
Why was Manuel always sharing his father's business?
"People change as they get older, develop new interests and drop others." I moved around the kitchen on autopilot, rinsing a mug I hadn't even used and setting it on the drying rack.
"Just seemed strange since he passed on spending time with Manuel to go to the class."
"Did he?" I tried to sound neutral, but my voice became higher at the end, and I could feel Blossom's bold stare in the back of my head.
"You know what I was thinking the other day," she continued. "You haven't dated anyone seriously since you and Dad divorced."
This was not the conversation I expected to have on Sunday morning. I turned to face her. "I have dated," I said carefully.
"Not seriously."
Crossing my arms, I leaned my hip against the counter. "What made you think about my dating history?"
My daughter shrugged. "I don't know. I guess because our lives are changing. Manuel and I are getting married in a couple of weeks, and I'll be moving out permanently. And you've been... different."
"Different how?"
As far as I knew, I was behaving the same. Wasn't I?
