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“What is it you wanted to talk to us about tonight?”
I shake my head. Now is not the time. “We’ll talk about it later. Gotta run.”
Chapter Eight
The atmosphere at the restaurant is formal but not ostentatious, with indoor and outdoor seating and a decent view of downtown. My favorite feature is its rustic floor-to-ceiling fireplace made of stone that serves as its focal point.
Skylar is waiting at our reserved table, reading her menu, wearing one of the many cardigans she owns.
“Sorry I’m late.” I hook my bag to the back of my chair.
She lowers her menu and stands, pulling me into a hug. It’s the first time she’s seen my baby bump in person. “You’re so cute!” She places her hands on my pregnant belly, staring at it adoringly. “I can’t wait to meet my nephew!”
“Just a few more weeks.”
We take our seats across from each other. “Are you homesick?”
“A little, but it's nice to be back.”
Her lips curve into a big smile. “Tina’s kids are finally back together again.”
“Right.” I give a small smile before looking around the restaurant.
“You and Niko look so much like her.”
“You have her smile,” I say.
“Do you remember that picture of her—the one where she’s sitting in Uncle Leroy’s kitchen cracking up about something?”
I rack my brain, but I can’t place the picture she’s talking about. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that one.”
“It was with the ones Uncle Leroy sent us before he passed.”
My brows draw together. “He never sent me any pictures.”
She tilts her head. “Really?”
“Maybe I was an afterthought to him, like I was to Mama,” I mutter.
Her face falls. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
“I can count on one hand the number of times she reached out to me instead of the other way around.”
“Addiction is a disease, Yas.”
“I know that,” I say. “But your dad was an addict and he never disappeared from your life.”
“No, I can’t say that he did. But he wasn’t perfect. Neither was she.” Skylar has always given her dad and our mom grace. It’s what I lack. I am my father’s child, after all. The realization makes my heart hurt.
I pick up my menu. “What looks good?”
Skylar gives a quick perusal of her menu before setting it aside. “How’s Gloria? She’s what—three months pregnant?”
“She is. And she’s doing okay except for the morning sickness.”
“I’m glad you have her.”
“Yeah.” Gloria has always been kind to me. But she, like my dad, sees my mother in me, which has kept her affection just out of my reach. “Can I be honest with you?”
