“He also has a very attractive penis,” she declared.
I made a gagging noise.
She studied me.
Then she gave me a quick, awkward hug.
“Oh, my beauties!” Mom, who’d snuck up on us, cried right before she horned in on our hug that had ended, but she made it begin again.
She bounced away, declaring, “I knew you two were sorting your differences. A mother’s intuition. I see it’s worked!” she said gleefully.
“It’s not that big of a deal, Mom,” Dream said, but even she, who could be dry to the point she was crackling about anything, sounded like she was lying.
“We’ll talk when Feather and Harmony are in a tiff,” Mom retorted.
She had her there.
Mom didn’t beleaguer it.
She said, “I knew I should have bought that fancy gluten-free, vegan cake from that bakery. I had a feeling. Now that feeling has come true because it seems we have a lot to celebrate!”
After delivering her exclamation, Mom walked back into the living room.
Dream and I exchanged a look before we followed her.
“You’re looking so much better, little lumpkin,” Mom said, patting Knox’s shoulder as she walked by him where he sat in an armchair. She stopped and gave him an overall perusal before declaring, “I’m so happy to see it. I’ve been worried.”
Knox’s eyes came to me.
I understood the look in them.
His mom worried in an unhealthy way that included recruiting his sister to try to get him to become part of her partner’s drug cartel and ambushing his woman to ascertain she had his back.
My mom patted his arm.
And called him “little lumpkin.”
I’d give him shit about “little lumpkin” later.
In the now, I went to him, sat on the arm of his chair and grabbed his hand.
“Uh, we have an announcement,” I said. “Knox and I, I mean.”
Mom was frozen, staring at us as we sat, holding hands.
Dad, his fingers around the necks of two beer bottles, entered the room, and he froze too.
“Knox and I got together some time ago,” I shared. “We broke up. When he got shot, we realized what was really going on and we got back together. As soon as Harlow can organize my closet, he’s moving in.”
Mom turned to Dad. “I should totally have bought that cake.”
Dad handed Mom the beers and said, “The bakery is five minutes away. I’ll go get it.”
“You don’t have to get a cake, Dad,” I said.
Dad looked at Byron. He looked at Knox. He looked at Dream. He looked at me.
Then he walked out of the room.
