“Is she in town for something specific? Or just for fun?”
“To see us. Duh. I called her last week to tell her about the interview, and when she found out all three of us would be in Boston at the same time, she said she’d fly in to visit.”
My heart pounds in my ears, making her words muffled. “So you’ve known about this for a week?”
“Oh, um, not exactly.” She shrugs. “She booked her flight this morning because she wasn’t sure if she’d make it back in time. You can change our dinner reservation since there will be four of us, right? I told her it wouldn’t be a big deal. And if it is, we can always change restaurants,” she goes on, her words flying from her at a rapid speed. “How amazing is this? It’s been forever since we’ve all had dinner together.”
“Yeah, it’s been a while,” I agree.Almost a year, not that I’m counting.
I talk to my mom on the phone now and then, though the conversations are rarely about me. Mostly, she fills me in on her life. Two weeks ago, she called me to tell me all about her newfound love for “the theatre.” Pronounced “the-ate-er.”Gag.I barely managed to squeeze in the news that I’m dating someone, and the topic only held her attention for about two minutes.
Ava rambles on about how nice it’ll be when we’re all together while I consider the possible reasons behind my mother’s trip to Boston. Because I guarantee it has nothing to do with her kids all being here. We were all here for Thanksgiving, and where was she? Oh yeah. On a cruise with her boyfriend. And the time before that? For Elliott’s graduation? She got food poisoning in St. Croix and missed her flight back. Food poisoning is code for sleeping through her alarm. She seems to have forgotten that a lie can’t be used more than twice before it comes under suspicion.
I was planning to wait until Cole got here to open a bottle of wine, but desperate times call for desperate measures. While I pour myself a hefty glass of chardonnay, Ava turns onGrey’s Anatomy.
“I can’t believe you’re choosing to rewatch this when I have so many amazing books you can read.”
“One can never watchGrey’s Anatomytoo many times, sister dear,” she singsongs, eyes glued to the screen.
I sigh and take a sip of my wine.
And then another.
Plus a few more.
By the time my boyfriend arrives, the wine’s mildly tempered the dread that’s churning in my stomach at the thought of seeing my mom. Still, when Cole wraps his arms around me in a hug, I bury my face in his chest as if it’ll protect me from the emotional trauma I’m in for tomorrow.
I’ve just closed my eyes and exhaled when Ava coughs loudly, demanding an introduction. She immediately loves him because not only did he bring Goose, who automatically adds ten points, but he stopped at Goldblatt’s and picked up babka. Yep. Swoon-worthy isn’t a complimentary enough descriptor for Cole.
Taking a bag from his arm, I shuffle to the kitchen. “Ava, will you help put stuff in the fridge while I wash the vegetables?”
She glances up from the floor, where she’s giving Goose a belly rub. “I could, but it would be rude to leave Goose halfway through his massage.”
“You’re not helping,” Cole says, taking the bag out of my arms.
I immediately try to wrestle it back from him, to no avail. “Of course I am. You’re not cooking dinner by yourself. Don’t be?—”
“You take care of everyone, baby,” he argues, his tone soft but resolute. “Let me take care of you for a change. Yeah?”
Exhaling through my nose, I nod. Then I let him guide me toward a kitchen stool. With my elbows resting on the marble island counter, I watch as he gathers the ingredients for pesto pasta. A man taking control like this in the kitchen? It’s hot.
“How was the game?”
He gasps and clutches a hand to his heart. “You didn’t watch?”
“I did,” I admit with heated cheeks.Am I blushing?“But I like when you give me your recaps, along with the inside scoop. Like who’s secretly pissed at who for missing a shot or not being open. It’s cute.”
His eyes hold mine captive as he lifts a brow. “Cute, huh?”
“Very, very cute. Sophie wants to get season tickets. Not that the suite isn’t amazing, because it is, but if we sit center ice, we’ll be closer to the action, you know? I’d miss the free cheese fries and fancy little canapes—oh, and I’d definitely miss the private bathroom—but it could be fun. What do you think?”
“You’re rambling.” He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. “You do know people who sit on center ice are more likely to get chosen for an intermission game, right?”
My stomach drops. “Never mind, then.”
He drops a quick kiss on my forehead. “You really don’t like attention, huh?”
“I really don’t,” I confirm with a shrug. “I’ve just never felt comfortable in the spotlight. I’m more of a behind-the-scenes kind of girl.”
