“Should we start the call?” I glance down at the time on my phone, noticing a text from Fletcher.
Fletcher
Have fun today, beautiful. I’ll be missing you all day.
Can’t wait to taste you again as soon as possible.
I can’t stop the heat creeping up my cheeks, or the goofy smile that appears on my face.
“Oh, I know that look,” Grace teases.
I snap my attention back to her. “Sorry.”
“Fletcher said something flirty, didn’t he?” Zoey slides into the chair beside me, handing me a mug of tea.
“No.” I shake my head, hoping I don’t look guilty, and I wrap my hands around the warm mug, bringing it to my lips.
“Sure.” Grace laughs. “Whatever you say.”
“He didn’t!”
A third message appears from him.
Fletcher
Might have to reenact the dream I had last night. God, it was so hot, and now I’m thinking about
I slam it back onto the table face down, my cheeks burning as I do.
“He totally did,” Zoey screeches, squeezing my shoulders. “We are so happy for you.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, pressing my hands to my cheeks to quell the heat. “It still feels a little surreal, but I’m getting used to it.”
“And he’s all in? With the baby and everything?”
I nod, my smile growing. “Yeah, he definitely is.”
My phone rings, drawing us awayfrom the conversation. I smile when I see Ron’s name. “It’s Ron. I bet Dottie is having trouble with her phone.”
“Hey, Ron,” I answer, “Is she having some trouble?”
Ron sighs heavily. “Yep. She wants to do it on the fancy computer Fletcher got us, but we can’t get it to work.”
“I’ll talk her through it.” I laugh as he passes the phone to Dottie. I walk her through pulling up FaceTime on her computer, and then I hang up the phone and call her back from my phone.
“We did it!” Dottie cheers as she answers the call, her face lighting up my screen.
I chuckle, and we all say our hellos before I try to add my mom to the call. It’s just a minute or so past the time we said we’d call, so she should be ready. The line rings, and she doesn’t pick up. I give it another minute, and yet again, no answer.
I press my lips together, trying to hide my disappointment. I should have known she would do this.
“She probably forgot,” I say, embarrassment creeping through my veins.
I thought I confirmed with her again this morning, but did I? I can’t check my texts since we are using my phone for the call. Grace takes my hand, squeezing. I’ve talked with both Grace and Zoey in depth about how things have been with my mom lately, so they know what’s going on.
“We can fill her in later,” Grace says. “No worries.”
Zoey starts listing off ideas for venues and dates, possible budget, and more, but I’m not paying attention. Not anymore. Mom wanted to be involved in this, or did I misunderstand? I pick at my fingernails while they chat, offering yeses or nos when needed, and twenty minutes later, they finish up.
