142
When she stepped into their apartment, it already smelled faintly of lavender and Ericka's perfume a comforting, familiar scent that wrapped around her like a hug.
She dropped her bag on the couch and walked through each room, tidying here and there fluffing pillows, straightening a frame, lighting a few candles for a soft touch. The place already looked elegant, but she wanted it to feel warm. Not just a penthouse... a home.
As she worked, Amanda kept thinking about the little details. What her mom might notice first. What she'd say. The kind of impression she wanted Ericka to make.
Halfway through arranging the bouquet she'd bought a mix of white roses and lilacs her phone buzzed again.
Ericka: Food's ordered.
A little of everything Italian, since I remember you said your mom loves pasta.
Should arrive around 6:45. I'll be home by 6:30 to set up the table.
Amanda: You remembered that?
Ericka: Of course.
I pay attention to the details that matter to you.
Amanda paused, fingers brushing one of the flower petals as her lips curved into a smile.
Amanda: You're going to make her fall in love with you before we even sit down.
Ericka: That's the plan. Might as well make it official.
Amanda laughed, shaking her head. "You're impossible," she muttered under her breath, but her heart swelled at the thought.
By the time 6:15 rolled around, everything was in place candles flickering on the dining table, flowers perfectly centered, soft jazz playing in the background. Amanda stood in front of the mirror in the hallway, smoothing the front of her blouse, taking one steadying breath.
Then the door opened.
Ericka stepped inside, dressed in dark slacks and a crisp blouse, a soft smile already forming as her eyes swept the room. "Wow," she said, setting down the takeout bags. "You really made this place glow."
Amanda turned, smiling softly. "I wanted it to feel homey not too... intimidating."
Ericka crossed the room, sliding her arms around Amanda's waist. "You did perfect. She's going to love this. And she's going to love you even more for putting so much thought into it."
Amanda leaned into her, resting her head against Ericka's shoulder. "I just want it to go smoothly. I want her to see what I see in you."
Ericka kissed her temple gently. "Then she will."
Amanda's nerves softened instantly at that at Ericka's certainty, her calm, her grounding presence.
They stood together like that for a few quiet seconds before Ericka finally pulled back, smiling playfully. "Alright. Let's set the table before she gets here and realizes her daughter still can't fold napkins properly."
Amanda laughed. "Oh, trust me she already knows that."
The smell of fresh pasta filled the apartment, mixing with the faint sweetness of candle wax and jasmine air spray. Amanda was adjusting the last place setting when Ericka came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.
The scene looked perfect maybe too perfect. The kind of cozy that could only mean something big was about to happen.
Ericka glanced at the table, then at Amanda, who was now nervously rearranging the silverware for the third time. "You've been staring at that spoon for five minutes," Ericka teased gently, stepping closer. "You okay?"
Amanda smiled nervously. "Yeah, I just... want it to go right."
Ericka tilted her head, studying her carefully. "Can I ask you something?"
Amanda froze, mid-adjustment. "What's up?"
Ericka folded her arms, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. "Did you ever tell your mom that we were... dating?"
Amanda hesitated, her mouth opening then closing again. "Uh... no. Not exactly."
Ericka's brows shot up, though amusement flickered in her eyes. "Not exactly? Amanda—" She laughed softly, running a hand through her hair. "So let me get this straight... are you planning to tell her we're dating and that I'm pregnant in the same night?"
Amanda winced, giving a sheepish little smile. "When you say it like that, it sounds... chaotic."
Ericka arched a brow. "That's because it is chaotic."
Amanda bit back a grin. "Okay, fair. But hear me out I wanted to do this right. I didn't want to just drop the relationship on her without her meeting you first. You're... important to me. This is important to me. I needed her to see it before I said anything."
Ericka's expression softened instantly. "Amanda..."
Amanda looked up, her voice quieter now. "I know she's going to love you. But I also know she's going to see how much I love you. So yeah, maybe I'll tell her everything tonight. Maybe it's time."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Ericka stepped closer, her hand finding Amanda's cheek, thumb brushing gently against her skin. "You know I'd never pressure you to tell anyone," she said softly. "But if you do tonight... I'll be right there with you."
Amanda's eyes glistened. "That's exactly why I'm not scared."
Ericka smiled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Good. Because I have a feeling this is going to be one of those nights we'll never forget."
Amanda chuckled nervously. "Yeah... I just hope it's for the right reasons."
Ericka grinned. "Either way, at least there's pasta."
Amanda laughed, the tension breaking just a little. "You're impossible."
"And you love it."
"I do."
Ericka's smile lingered as she brushed her hands down Amanda's sides, grounding her. "Alright," she said softly, glancing toward the clock. "Six fifty-eight. She'll be here any second. You ready?"
Amanda took a deep breath, her stomach fluttering with nerves. "As I'll ever be."
Ericka reached for her hand. "Then let's do this together."
Just as Amanda exhaled, there was a soft knock at the door.
The knock echoed softly through the apartment.
Amanda's stomach tightened. She looked at Ericka, who gave her a reassuring squeeze on the hand.
"You've got this," Ericka whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.
Then, with a small, knowing smile, she added, "I'm going to step into the bedroom for a secondjust to breathe. You open the door, okay?"
Amanda nodded, her heart pounding as she smoothed down her blouse and took one steadying breath before crossing the living room. Behind her, she heard the faint click of the bedroom door closing.
She unlocked the front door and pulled it open.
Her mom stood there, holding a small bouquet of flowers and wearing that familiar, warm smile that instantly made Amanda's chest ache with love. "Hey, baby," her mom said, pulling her into a hug that smelled like perfume and home. "You look good. Tired but good."
Amanda laughed softly, hugging her back. "Hey, Ma. You made it."
When they pulled apart, her mom's gaze wandered past her shoulder into the apartment. The elegant space, the soft lighting, the clean, modern touches it was clearly not a starter apartment.
Her brows lifted. "This is... wow, Amanda."
Amanda smiled, a little nervous but proud. "Yeah, it's nice, right?"
Her mom stepped inside, her eyes sweeping the place like she was taking inventory of every detail. "Nice? Girl, this place looks like something out of a magazine." She paused, turning to face her daughter. "Whose place is this?"
Amanda hesitated for half a second, then said calmly, "It's ours. Mine and Ericka's."
Her mom blinked. "Ours?"
Amanda gave her a small, sheepish smile. "Yeah. We live together."
Her mom tilted her head, giving that classic mom side-eye that said she was both intrigued and suspicious. "Oh, I see..."
That earned a tiny smile. "She remembered that?"
"Yeah," Amanda said softly, her heart swelling a little. "She pays attention."
Her mom nodded, glancing around once more. "So where is this famous Ericka I've been hearing about?"
Amanda rubbed her palms together, trying to hide her nerves. "She's just in the room. She'll be out in a second."
As if on cue, the bedroom door opened.
Ericka stepped out, smoothing the fabric of her fitted black dress as she walked toward them. Her hair was down tonight, cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, catching the light in a way that made her glow. There was a quiet confidence about her graceful but grounded, warm but commanding.
When Amanda's mom turned and saw her, she froze for half a second eyes widening just slightly before a soft smile tugged at her lips. "Oh my..." she said under her breath, then chuckled. "Gosh, she's even more beautiful in person."
Amanda felt heat creep into her cheeks. "Yeah," she said softly, glancing at Ericka with a grin she couldn't suppress. "She is."
Ericka crossed the room with that calm, collected poise that always made Amanda's heart race. "Mrs. Parker," she said warmly, extending a hand. "It's such a pleasure to finally meet you."
Amanda's mom didn't hesitate she took Ericka's hand, holding it with a firm but friendly grip. "Please, call me Angela," she said with a smile. "And the pleasure's mine, truly."
Ericka smiled, her tone genuine. "Amanda talks about you all the time. I feel like I already know you."
Angela laughed lightly. "Oh, does she now? I hope it's good things."
Amanda, still standing nearby, rolled her eyes playfully. "Mostly good things."
Ericka grinned. "All good things."
Angela chuckled again, her expression softening as she looked between them—really looked—noticing the way Amanda's body instinctively leaned closer to Ericka, the quiet familiarity between them, the unspoken ease.
"Well," she said finally, setting her purse on the counter. "I can already tell this is going to be an interesting night."
Amanda smiled nervously, her fingers brushing Ericka's as they exchanged a quick, secret glance.
Ericka nodded, her voice soft but sure. "The best kind of night."
Angela Parker stood near the table, taking it all in with an approving hum. "Well, I'll give you this," she said, smiling at Amanda. "Whoever set this up has good taste."
"That would be Ericka," Amanda admitted, glancing toward her with a soft, proud smile. "She wanted everything to be perfect."
Ericka, who had been quietly pouring water into the glasses, looked up and offered a warm smile. "You raised an incredible woman, Mrs. Parker. The least I could do was make sure dinner matched the occasion."
Angela chuckled, though her eyes softened at the compliment. "Thank you, dear. And please, call me Angela."
Ericka nodded. "Only if you call me Ericka."
They shared a light laugh, and Amanda felt a wave of relief ease the tension in her chest. For a moment, it almost felt easy.
Ericka gestured toward the table. "Please, have a seat. Everything's ready."
Angela smiled, sliding into one of the chairs. "Smells amazing," she said. "You two went all out."
Amanda sat beside her, feeling Ericka's reassuring hand brush her lower back as she took the seat across from them.
As everyone settled, Ericka moved toward the small bar cart in the corner. "Can I get you a glass of wine, Angela? I have a really nice red open it'll pair beautifully with dinner."
"Oh, yes please," Angela said, her smile widening. "That sounds lovely."
Ericka poured her a glass, the dark liquid glinting under the light as she brought it to the table. "Here you go," she said smoothly, placing it gently in front of her.
Angela accepted it, watching her for a second before raising the glass. "Thank you, sweetheart. You're not having any?"
Ericka froze for a fraction of a second subtle, but Amanda noticed. Then Ericka smiled politely and shook her head. "Not tonight."
Angela tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly, though her smile stayed polite. "Oh? Special occasion?"
Amanda caught the look that little spark of motherly curiosity and jumped in quickly, forcing a laugh. "She's just taking it easy, Ma. She's been working a lot lately."
Angela hummed softly, swirling her wine. "Mmhmm."
The sound said everything.
Ericka, ever composed, simply smiled and returned to her seat beside Amanda. "I figured water was the safer choice tonight," she said lightly, setting her glass down. "Big day tomorrow at the office."
Angela's expression softened, but Amanda could still feel her mom's gaze shifting between the two of them, quietly observing, quietly collecting pieces of a puzzle she hadn't been told existed yet.
She took a sip of her wine, savoring it. "Well," she said finally, leaning back in her chair, "whatever's going on, this dinner looks too good to let get cold. Let's eat."
Amanda exhaled quietly, thankful for the shift in tone. "Yes, please," she said, grabbing a plate. "Ericka went all out. We've got pasta primavera, garlic bread, and her famous salad."
Angela smiled. "Her famous salad, huh?"
Amanda froze for half a beat, realizing she'd just said that with way too much affection in her tone. Ericka chuckled softly beside her, leaning closer to serve Angela a portion. "It's just something I throw together," she said easily. "Nothing special."
Angela eyed her with an amused little smirk. "Somehow, I doubt that."
Amanda laughed nervously, stabbing her fork into her pasta as Ericka poured sparkling water into her glass. Beneath the table, Ericka's hand brushed against her thigh a small, grounding touch that said relax, I've got this.