AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Deal.”
Mom slams the microwave door in the kitchen, starting to hum an off-key version of “Silent Night.” I try to wiggle off Mason’s lap, knowing she’ll return any minute and probably take pictures to hang on the fridge, but his arms tighten around me, holding me in place.
“I think it’s cute,” Mason murmurs, his lips a whisper against my cheek.
“What’s cute?”
“Your mom teasing us. It shows she cares. That she approves of us, of me.”
I wrap my arms around Mason’s waist, squeezing closer. His comforting, woodsy scent makes me burrow deeper into his neck.
“Then I won’t say another word,” I tell him.
Not when my mom is the closest thing to a parent he has. Not if her teasing makes him feel loved and accepted. I’ll put up with the embarrassment for him.
As for Mason’s mom … she’s been blowing up his phone since he didn’t go by the other night, and I’ve already been googling healthy ways to care for people struggling with addiction in ways that don’t enable. I hope that I can help Mason draw more healthy boundaries with her.
I also hope one day I can meet her and she’ll think I’m amazing for her son and give us her stamp of approval and also that she’ll be okay.
But all of those things may take a bit more time. Even with my armor-plated optimism, I’m also aware it might not happen at all.
Which makes me even more grateful for my mom. And maybe even for my brother.
Whom we still haven’t talked to. Another thing on the to-do list.
As though using the parental skill of mid-reading, Mom walks back into the room, settles down in a chair, and asks, “Have you talked to John about this new development?”
I shake my head. “I don’t wanna. Did he tell you about the horrible dates he sent me on this week?”
Mom raises her brows, but does not look in the least surprises. “Interesting.”
I gasp, pointing a finger. “You knew!”
“I disavow all responsibility for my grown children’s actions.” She takes a sip of her water. “But yes, I knew.”
Mason tenses, and I cling to him a little tighter.
“Mom!” I protest. “How could you support that!”
“I’m not saying Isupportedit. But I did support his end goal.”
I roll my eyes. “Right—to find me the perfect guy through some dating app.”
“No,” Mom says, giving Mason a pointed look. “His goal was for you to end up with the right guy.”
It takes only a moment for this to sink in. I can tell when Mason gets it because he groans.
“Are you saying we got played?” I ask. “That John sent me on horrible dates on purpose to try to makethis”—I gesture between Mason and me—“happen?”
“That’s something you’ll have to discuss with your brother,” Mom says, but she’s smiling.
“Oh, there will be a discussion,” I mutter.
Mom’s phone starts buzzing on the coffee table, and she picks it up. “Well, your brother certainly has a way with timing. I guess you can have that discussion right now,” she says, then hesitates. “If you want. If not, you can always talk later.”
I’m torn, but Mason says, “Now is fine.”
Mom nods, then swipes to answer and sets the phone back on the table, nudging it a little our way. “Hey, John! You’re on speakerphone. Mason and Chelsea are here.”
