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He doesn’t bother lifting his head. “Not those either.”
My hand gestures that direction to reiterate my point persuading Wes to chortle. “Understood. No plays.”
“Or musicals.”
“Or musicals.”
“Then what are you taking her out to do?” Mom smoothly steers the conversation once more. “This is the first time you’ve left the estate for more than just delivering flowers in years, so you are not to even consider pumping the breaks now, young man.”
Wes beams bright enough for me to need sunglasses inside. “It’s obvious where Bryn gets her negotiation skills from.”
“This isn’t a negotiation, Weston,” my mother clarifies without missing a beat. “This is non-negotiable.” She pulls the blanket up a little higher towards her stomach. “She will get you out of the house. You will not get her staying stuck in it. Understood?”
There’s no hesitation for him to agree, “Yes, ma’am.”
It’s his turn to receive a loving pat on the leg. “Now, what do you have in mind? A long drive down to the coast? She loves the ocean.”
“That’s where the sharks live,” I childishly retort under my breath and take another turn with our word game.
“I am actually in the process of arranging something for Thursday night.” His thumb delivers a gentle stroke between statements. “I prefer leaving and engaging in activities outside of the estate where I can use the cloak of night to my advantage.”
“Now say it with a rasp,” Puppet Boy playfully pokes again. “The bat rasp.”
Before my boyfriend can bite back, I redirect my attention to him. “I can’t Thursday night. I have to work.”
His glower is instant. “Since. When?”
“Since I asked to be added more on the schedule.”
“Why would you do that?”
“The weirdest shit keeps happening to me. These…random…people keep asking me for money that they swear I owe them for like my phone…my car insurance…my student loans…”
The levity in my tone sparks a smirk. “Villains.”
“That’s what I said!”
Laughter spreads throughout the room and for just a second I let it.
Relish it.
I’ve never had this.
I’ve never introduced my mom to someone I’m dating – not that there has been a long list that have made it longer than a month – and I’ve just sat around with her and my friends – not that there’s many of those either – laughing and joking around.
For so long, I swore she was the only person who would ever understand me.
Want me.
Be there for me.
The one person I knew I could always count on.
Trust.
It’s been her ocean I’ve learned to survive in, but I’m beginning to believe Wes’s is where I will thrive.
Post the humor fading, I suggest, “Can we do something tomorrow night instead?”
