A loud clatter comes from down the hallway, and shortly after, my mom’s golden-haired head pops through the doorway. “Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence! I almost forgot I have four daughters.”
I wince at her reprimand, guilt slamming into me. “Sorry, life’s been… chaotic.”
“Do you mean because you dumped Damien’s scrawny ass or because you’ve started dating the hot cop?”
Emily elbows Amy as they enter the kitchen. “Be nice.”
“Jessy has a new boyfriend?” Carly yells, eyes wide as she turns to me. That girl is always yelling, not that I find it surprising. As the youngest in the family, she’s always had to be extra loud to make sure she’s heard over the rest of us.
“Can you be nice to your sister?” Mom chides. “It’s not surprising she doesn’t come home nearly often enough.”
“I still think that has more to do with her new boyfriend than it does with us,” Amy declares.
“It’s not fair!” Carly whines. “Why does Amy get to meet him and I don’t? Will you bring him over to the house?”
Amy smirks. “Because I’m her favorite?”
Mom claps her hands loudly, effectively shushing everyone up. “I don’t remember inviting you downstairs to pester. C’mon, set the table for dinner."
Amy starts to open her mouth, but Mom gives her a warning look. “Not a word.”
They all know not to mess with Mom once she gives youthatlook, so they quickly gather everything and leave the room, their quiet bickering coming from the hallway the moment they’re out of view.
“I swear, these girls will be the death of me.”
Her words have me chuckling softly. For all her frustrations, I know Mom loves every single one of us and wouldn’t have it any other way.
Crossing the distance between us, I wrap her in a hug and press my lips against her cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby,” Mom echoes, her smile softening. “Been volunteering again?”
My mother knows me too well for my own good.
It’s not that I don’t tell my family I love them, but volunteering and seeing first hand just how fragile life is, I can’t help but do it more often. I never want my family to doubt how I feel about them.
“Yeah.”
Mom pats my cheek affectionately. “Good girl. How are things over there?”
“The usual,” I sigh, grabbing the lettuce and starting on the salad. “Mrs. Williams is getting worse.”
Mom tsks. “That poor, poor woman. How’s Becky doing?”
“Pushing through. Although, I can see she’s getting more emotional about it.”
“Well, that’s to be expected. How are you doing?”
“Good. Busy.”
Though my whole attention is on the salad, I can feel Mom’s gaze probing the side of my face. “What’s going on with that new boy the girls are talking about?”
Shit.
I should have seen that one coming.
“With life and work and volunteering…”
I look up, which is clearly the wrong thing to do because Mom shoots me her signature look.
