Becca pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Oh, my God.”
“I bet that’s what he said last night.” Mom nudged Marlee again. “Rebecca, darling, your problem is that you’ve always been a giver. You need to spend some time being a taker.”
Marlee was totally into this exchange, given the crazy smile on her lips. “That’s what we were just saying.”
“Mom. Stop. I fell asleep in his guest room, and it wasn’t a big deal.” And it wouldn’t be a big deal because Becca would invest in all the doohickeys, and she wouldn’t be getting them from the ladies’ auxiliary.
“Not a big deal?” Mom asked. “Then why do you look like you did that time your dad accidentally hit a raccoon with his car?”
Fine, it felt like a bit of a big deal. Okay, maybe it was even an enormous deal. She needed some time with her most trusted friends to dissect that.
“We’re trying to help Becca figure out the next steps in her catch-a-man, get-laid plan,” Marlee said, directing all of her attention to Becca’s mother. “We’ve all decided this guy isthe one.”
“It’s true,” Kellie added. Which was ridiculous because they hadn’t commiserated on their feelings about Linx.
“I do not need help with my fling plans.” Becca crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling.
“I think we established earlier that you do.” Sadie rubbed Becca’s ankle.
“What’s the plan?” Mom asked. If Becca wasn’t mistaken—and Becca wasn’t mistaken—her mom was about to dig right on in and help Becca catch a Linx.
“To call him and ask him to drive her to work tonight, since he offered,” Kellie said. Because, well, that was all the plan they’d come up with so far.
“Why aren’t you driving yourself?” Mom asked, her eyebrows falling together.
Becca sighed. Better to just get it all out there before her mom started talking about multi-pronged doohickeys again. “My car died. It’s being reincarnated in the shop.”
Mom pursed her lips. Perhaps there were some things that didn’t change. Her mother’s distaste for Becca’s choice in vehicles shouldn’t have been comforting. And yet…it was.
“You know you should’ve avoided that brand.” Her mother turned on the stern. “We are a Chevy family.” She glanced to Sadie. “Just ask her father.”
“I like my car,” Becca said, coming to the defense of the car even though it had, technically, stranded her ass. She’d loved it until last night. Somewhere around the second grinding noise, she’d slipped from heavy love to like. Unless there were more issues she hadn’t heard about, she didn’t plan on selling it soon.
Mom thought on that for a moment before saying, “Yes, but dear, sometimes the things we like aren’t what’s best for us.”
Maybe her mother should become the therapist in the family. With a little tweaking, she’d be excellent.
“Now you sound like me.” Becca draped her forearm over her eyes. “I don’t like it.”
“Perhaps it’s you who sounds like me,” Mom suggested with a touch of an eyebrow waggle.
Becca didn’t like that, either.
“Oh, crud.” Mom stood and brushed nothing from her pressed slacks. “I totally forgot why I came up. Your dad is having friends over for poker tonight. Try not to make too much noise. It distracts them if they can’t focus on the cards.”
Huh? “Since when does Dad play poker?” Becca asked.
“Probably around the time the ladies’ auxiliary started handing out double-ended doohickeys,” Marlee said around a mouthful of cherry filling.
“Poker. Be quiet. Noted.” Becca didn’t move her arms from covering her eyes.
“We’ll keep it down now, too.” Sadie was the brown-nosing friend. “Unless you’d prefer we make noise?”
Mom waved off the suggestion.
“Randy is heading out for chips and beer. You can make all the ruckus you want.” The shuffling sounds Becca hoped were her mother leaving paused for a moment. “Let me know if you girls need more snacks.”
“We’re good, Mom.” Becca should start an apartment search.
