Page 83 of The Best Shot

I snorted. “I’m guessing she mentioned that more than once.”

“Naturally. Says she wants more time with me and the baby.”

“Right.”

CeeCee’s thumb worried the plastic edge of the name tag in her lap. Then, quieter, “Would you come with me?”

“She’s not exactly happy with me right now, CeeCee.”

“I know.” She winced, rubbing slow circles over her stomach. “I’m sorry about that. Feels like my fault.”

The light turned red and I pulled to a stop.

“My issues with my mother have nothing to do with you.”

“Will you come with me anyway?” Her hand kept moving over the swell of her belly. “Please?”

I did not want to go.

Not after weeks of being the problem in every conversation. Not when I’d be the only one in the room expected to apologize.

“Please, Yaz?”

A horn tapped behind me, and I eased off the brake.

“Yeah,” I said finally. “Fine.”

She smiled, small and victorious.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing with all that belly rubbing,” I said.

“Sucker.”

Mama opened the door with a smile already in place.

“CeeCee, baby,” she said. “Come in, come in.”

Then her gaze slid to me. “Yasmine.”

The smile stayed, but she said my name with the warmth scraped off.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Didn’t expect you.”

“Surprise.”

Her lips pursed. “Well, it’s good that you’ve finally come to see your mother.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

Then we were inside, and Mama did what she always did with discomfort. Acted like it had never happened.

She led us through the living room toward the dining room, talking to CeeCee the whole way and not asking me a thing.

The table was already set. Three places.

I might not have been expected, but clearly someone else was.