Page 180 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Oh!” A tittering laugh filled the room as my mother and said mystery man jumped apart, shooting to their feet and stumbling around, adjusting their clothing like they were kids who had just gotten busted by their parents. “Cora! You’re back already? I didn’t expect you home so early.”

Clearly.

“It’s almost midnight,” I said, putting my keys down. I didn’t know where to look, or not look, or what to do. Was it too late to call Aiden and just leave the way I came?

“You’re right. It’s late,” a voice said. A familiar voice. “I guess the evening got away from us.”

“It did,” my mother said, giggling in a way I’d never heard before.

I frowned, getting my first good look at the man I’d been awkwardly trying not to stare at. “Mr. Cranson?”

“Hi, Cora,” he said, his face breaking into a kind, if slightly embarrassed, smile. “Nice to see you again.”

“Um…you too?”

No freaking way was my mother making out with my high school English teacher! Aiden was never going to believe this.

Hell, I barely believed it.

Mr. Cranson had taught me three of my four years in high school. In the years since then, he’d grown a beard and gone mostly grey, but hearing his voice took me back to long discussions about some of my favorite books. His classes had always been the highlight of my year, and he’d been one of the reasons I’d planned on going to college for teaching. To say he’d been a great teacher was an understatement, but to find him on the couch, kissing my mother…well, that was something else entirely.

I laughed uncertainly. “So, what’s, uh…What’s going on here?”

My mother stepped forward, taking Mr. Cranson’s hand. “Oh, honey, I’d wanted to talk to you about Henry and me before something like this happened. But you got in late the other night, and you were so busy running around with Aiden, getting the reunion sorted. It didn’t feel like the right time.”

Henry! Oh. Oh. This was serious.

My mother took a deep breath, looking right at me. “Cora. Henry and I have been dating for a few months now.”

“A few months?” I asked. Of all the ridiculous things I’d worried about, my mother dating again hadn’t even been on the list. But I supposed it should have been. It had been a long time since we’d lost my father. And honestly, I was just so relieved it wasn’t a health issue. “That explains why you’ve been a little weird and evasive every time we’ve talked lately.”

My mother winced. “I hadn’t realized…I suppose I didn’t want to tell you when it was still in its early days, in case it didn’t go anywhere. But it has gone somewhere.” She turned, smiling at Mr. Cranson. It was a soft smile. The kind of smile I hadn’t seen her wear in a very long time. It was clear that Mr. Cranson made her happy.

Mr. Cranson leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. “I should let you two have a proper chat.”

My mother nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Not if I call you first.”

Well, that was horribly cheesy. As awkward as this was, I couldn’t stop grinning.

“It was good to see you, Cora,” Mr. Cranson said. “Hopefully, we can catch up sometime soon.”

“Absolutely,” I said as he passed me, slipping out the door. I turned back to my mother the moment he was gone. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me!”

My mother threw her hands up. “I didn’t know what to say at first. I didn’t even think I remembered how to date. And never in a million years did I think it would go anywhere. Then one date turned into two and two into…well, you know how it goes.”

I followed my mother into the kitchen. She filled the kettle and plugged it in before rattling around in the cupboard for a pack of cookies. She stuffed an Oreo into her mouth and leaned against the counter.

As I stood there, waiting for her to continue, I got the sense that she’d been worried about more than her and Mr. Cranson not working out. “Were you afraid I wouldn’t approve?” I asked gently.

She sighed, offering me the package of cookies. I took one, plopping down at the table while she made us both a cup of tea. “I did sort of wonder if you might think I was betraying your father’s memory,” she said.

“Not at all,” I hurried to say. “You deserve to be happy, Mom. I think Dad would want that for you.”

My mother smiled. “I think so too.”

“Actually, now that I know you’re not hiding some terrible secret,” I continued, “I’m thrilled for you. And Mr. Cranson.”