“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” she says, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “It looked like you were having fun.”
She hands me a glass filled with iced tea. After taking a few swallows to wet my dry throat, I place it down on the black round coaster she placed on the table. My mom takes a seat on the other side of the table with her own glass and eyes me curiously.
“So, are you going to tell me about this girl?”
I keep my expression neutral, not giving anything away. It doesn’t surprise me she knows. As mom’s are known to be, she somehow knows everything. As a kid, it always amazed me how we could never keep anything from her. It’s like when women have kids, they not only gain that kid, but also some type of superpower that enables them to see the past, present, and future. I just don’t know how she found out about Poppy.
When I keep my face blank and my mouth shut, she huffs out a breath.
“Owen overheard you talking on the phone this morning. He said it sounded like a girl. Now, do your old mom a solid and spill.”
I nearly choke on my tea. A solid? What the hell is wrong with her?
Her lips twitch as she watches the shock on my face.
“No, mom,” I tell her and shake my head. “Just no.”
“What? Alexander says it all the time,” she says, laughing.
I lean back in my chair with my legs stretched out underneath the table and my fingers laced over my stomach.
“Alexander is thirty, not fifty-five.”
Rolling her eyes, she steeples her fingers together and places her hands on the table, in a very prim way, contradicting the ‘hip’ thing she was just trying to pull off. I almost laugh.
“Okay, enough with the deflecting. I want to know who this girl is you were talking to on the phone this morning.”
Keeping my relaxed pose, I tell her, “It was my assistant from work.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Asher James Knight,” she scolds. “Don’t you dare try to pull a fast one on me. Your brother said y’all were talking about very personal things. It was your assistant, my ass.”
It’s not often it happens, but I love when I can one-up my mom. I love her and she’s the best woman I know, but it gives me immense pleasure to show her she may not know everything after all. Maybe it’s the kid in me wanting to best my mom for once. I raise a brow and inform her smugly, “Actually, it was my assistant.” When she opens her mouth to reprimand me again, I continue. “Who also happens to be the woman I’m going to one day marry and carry my children.”
I’ve clearly caught her off guard. Her mouth hangs open as she stares at me.
She snaps out of her daze and demands, “Who is this girl, and why haven’t you mentioned her before?”
I shrug. “It’s not something she knows yet. I’ve known for a while, but as you know, it wasn’t until recently I was at a place in my life that I could pursue her.”
Sadness washes over her face, and grief engulfs the air around us. I want to hit myself for bringing up such a sore subject. She always gets this way when it’s mentioned.
After a moment, she brings herself out of her thoughts and asks, “What do you mean she doesn’t know?”
“I haven’t told her my feelings yet, or my plans regarding her.”
“Asher, honey, don’t you think it’s important she knows?” she says with a frown.
“I plan to tell her next week. I’m bringing her to the dinner you have planned in a couple weeks to meet everyone.”
She still looks at me doubtfully, so I explain further.
“She knows my interest, Mom, but doesn’t know it’s me, her boss. It’s too much to explain right now. Just know that she’s the one I choose.”
She reaches acro
ss the table and grabs my hand. With excitement shining in her eyes, she says, “I’m happy for you, honey. I can’t wait to meet her.”
I smile at her in kind.