“Does he act like you’re beneath him because you’re not rich? ’Cause I need to tell you, you aren’t poor yourself, kiddo.” She’s in mom mode now, defending me.
“No, I never would have even known if I hadn’t seen his house and car.”
“You’ve been to his place?” She looks at me sideways. I can tell she’s surprised.
“Last night,” I confirm, and my face is probably red.
“I thought you were out with Gwen.”
“I was. He called, and Gwen invited him to join us.” I roll my eyes. “It’s a whole thing. I think I’m a little mad at her.”
“Wait, what happened?” She angles herself toward me more, and I lean against the counter. “Did you not want him to join you?”
I’ve missed talking with her. “No, I did, but Gwen was acting weird once he met up with us for dinner. Later, we dropped her off at her car and I left with Rafe instead of her, and I think she’s mad at me or something. She’s not returning my calls.”
“That doesn’t seem like her,” Mom agrees. “But she is used to having all your attention. You never really dated anyone or brought anyone else around her.”
“Maybe. She was a little flirtier than I liked,” I admit.
“You really must like him.” Mom smiles. “Tell me something about him other than how much money he has.”
My first thought is to tell her how he doesn’t judge me, but then she might ask what I’ve done that he could be judgmental about, and that’s not a conversation I’m ready to have. “When he looks at me, it’s like he sees me.” I look over at her to read her reaction.
“As opposed to?” Even that statement made her curious.
“You know what guys are like.” I’m probably a little jaded and it’s showing. “He looks at my face when he talks to me. When I talk, he actually listens, even when I can tell he’s not interested in the topic.” I chuckle.
“What topic would that be?” She starts gathering extra silverware from the drawer.
“Gwen. She didn’t make a great impression. I told him she was having a bad night,” I add before she can say anything to defend her.
“I’m excited to get to know him if he’s important to you,” she tells me.
“Does it bother you that he’s older?”
“And covered in tattoos?” Her brows rise high on her forehead.
“You noticed that?” I joke. She would have to be blind not to notice.
“I don’t care if he has two heads as long as he treats you right,” Mom states, and I know she means it.
I blow out a raspberry. “Sorry I’ve been being a butthead, Ma.”
“Sorry I sprang the news on you so suddenly. I’d been thinking about it for a long time, so in some way, I thought you already knew how I felt.”
There’s that guilty feeling again, and she’s not even trying. “I probably should have,” I admit.
“I should have been more direct.” We both fall silent after that, each of us accepting some blame.
I pull down another plate, and Mom turns off the oven when it beeps, propping the door open a little so the heat will escape. It shouldn’t be too long before Rafe gets here. I’m excited and nervous. It’s probably a little strange for him to be having dinner with my mom so soon, but she will always be a huge part of my life, even when we don’t live together, so it’s important to me that they get along.
“Should I throw together a salad or something?” Mom looks around the kitchen and rolls her chair over to the counter to tidy things up a bit, not that she needs to.
“I will, stop worrying, Ma,” I tell her while walking over to the fridge, even though I’m super nervous myself.
“He’s already here,” Mom whispers when I hear the sound of tires on the gravel drive.
“He can’t hear you. You don’t have to whisper,” I tease.
