“You’re right,” she rasps between kisses.
“I’m always right.”
I cradle her face in my hands and our eyes lock. I even nuzzle our noses together, and I’m beginning to wonder what version of myself this is, softer for sure, and I recognize a sweltering flare inside of me that realizes this woman could bring me to my knees because I want her.
“I guess I’ll be seeing you around then?” She attempts to hide her smirk.
“Lucky you.” I follow her to the driver’s seat and hold the door open as she slides into her seat.
“Yeah, maybe I am,” she laments.
I hope she is because that would mean I’m the guy that deserves to share a life with someone like her, and I’m still not sure I believe that.
20
APRIL
Folding laundry is a boring Sunday task, but I light a beeswax candle, clean the apartment, and use the day as a reset for the week. I’ve also been listening to my mother for the last ten minutes debate if the sweater she bought me is forest green or palm green, whatever the hell the difference is.
“I can return it if you want. But it does look great on you, fits perfectly, and most importantly, will keep you nice and warm for winter.” She folds the sweater and slides it to the other side of the counter before grabbing her mug of coffee.
“It’s fine.” I focus on folding my laundry. Pickles is crashed out on the couch.
My mom and I went for brunch, and after, she came back to my apartment, because I know she likes to check everything is in order because I’m forever her baby. I live in a simple apartment, but it’s in a safe building with a condominium board that ensures the elevator always works.
“I guess staying warm is already taken care of for the winter,” she mumbles before pretending to take a sip of her coffee.
I stop folding and look at her with a jarring stare. “Something you wish to bring up, dear mother?”
She smiles warmly. “You were looking at your phone all the time when we were at the restaurant.”
“And? It’s how people these days transfer messages, share updates on their life, send inappropriate GIFS.” I find a missing sock and pair it together. I know where she is going with this, and Spencer and I have been messaging all week. Updates about Pickles, Hadley, his questions about reheating food I left, and jokes that I’m sure he heard in the locker room.
“I know, I get your bombardment of Pickles photos, and the Arrows family group chat is a delight during football season,” she jokes. “But I have a feeling a particular baseball player is responsible for keeping you distracted. You didn’t even steal a bite of my cheesecake today.”
Throwing the sock pair into the laundry basket to put away later, I glance at my mom and debate what to say. “Your point?”
“You haven’t really updated me on what’s going on with your romantic life, maybe even avoided that topic, and I didn’t want to push.However, the radiant smile that doesn’t leave your face has me interested, and I’m going to assume Spencer is the culprit since you had a little getaway to Lake Spark.”
I bite my lip before my defense completely falters. “Can I plead the fifth?”
“Not with me.”
“Fine. Yes, hemaybe responsible for my mood.” Now I can’t help but gush, and I feel my facial expression give me away.
My mom taps her nails on her mug. “Do tell.”
“We… are… just going with the flow, you know how it is.” I wave a hand at her, and she gives me the warning glare that she needs more data. “Early stages. Just seeing where it goes. No rush. No need for nosy mothers to get involved.”
“Good. Enjoy it, and the moment you think your mother who is a smart cookie needs to be involved, then you phone me.”
I nod and grab my own mug of tea. “You know, for someone who is excellent at tearing down the opposition in a courtroom… did you not see the signs with Jeff?” It’s funny how once a relationship ends, everyone states how they were never in favor of it. Could have used the clue beforehand.
My mother grabs her purse and walks to me, tentatively touching my arm. “When you think you’re in love, you choose to see what you want. Would you have listened? Besides, you’re my daughter, so I’m blind when it comes to you. I wanted you to be happy, and maybe that’s what I tried to see, even if I had doubts. But you are a strong lady who will end up with someone better. All exes lead to the one.”
“Let me guess, you’re hoping it’s a star pitcher?”
She bobs her head side to side. “He isn’t half bad.” Her smirk tells me enough; she approves.
