8. Chapter 8
Grace
“So…” My mom dragged out the word while she sat down across from me at the table.
We were out for our bi-weekly breakfast date, which had really turned into a bi-weekly interrogation of my love life ever since my brother got married.
And the closer we got to Ronan’s wedding, the worse the questioning got.
“Tell me everything. How was the other night?” She meant the date with Peter, not the one with Connor’s fingers buried inside me in a historic theater, but my mind went back to the theater anyway.
I busied myself pouring cream into both steaming cups while she stared expectantly. “It was…good,” I finally said, deciding it was better to answer with a lie than to admit I had abandoned her supposedly-perfect-for-me match before the dessert menu.
“Well, Vicky said she hadn’t talked to Peter yet, but judging by the blushing look on your face, it was better than good!
” My mom excitedly took a sip of her coffee, likely already mentally working on wedding plans for a relationship that wasn’t ever going to start.
“Tell me everything.” Not happening. “When are you seeing him again?” she asked, setting her cup down and clasping her hands together.
“Oh, I’m probably not.” I quickly drank from my mug, hoping she would drop it. Her eyes got wide, like I’d given her terrible news.
“What? Why not?” my mom whined. An older couple at the table next to us turned, and a little boy who had been squealing two tables over quieted. I tried to half-cover my face when the waitress turned in the direction of the sudden outburst.
“He just wasn’t really my type.” I shrugged.
At one point, Peter probably could have been my type, but that was before I met Connor.
Connor snuck me into the ballet through the basement but walked into the suite like he owned the place while Peter was excited about an extra basket of rolls, even though he could probably afford to buy the whole menu. That’s all for you.
He was handsome and successful, but he was boring. He was really boring.
"But I thought you had fun?" Why was she looking at me like I just told her I was never going to see her again? I sighed.
“I… It’s complicated, Mom.” The gulp of coffee I took wasn’t hot enough to burn away the unnecessary guilt or to swallow the lump of nerves that formed there. “Peter was really nice, but I just don’t think we’re compatible.”
“Great. Back to square one,” she huffed, carrying a burden that was never hers to shoulder. The disappointment on her face was instantly replaced with frustration that couldn’t be hidden behind her coffee mug. “Why are you so stubborn, Grace?”
Here we go again. “Mom, I’m not being stubborn.”
She reached across the table and took my hand. “Don’t you see it? I just don’t want you to be old and lonely.”
“I’m only twenty-five!” I said, desperately wishing I could get away from the conversation. I looked toward the door, wishing Connor was going to interrupt again. Where would he take me this time? Then, I thought about what my mom would do if he did, and I was relieved his car wasn’t in the lot.
“I already had Giaco when I was twenty-five, and Ronan was on the way. I’m just saying, if you—”
“Please don’t do this,” I begged.
My mom pouted. “Do what? Honey, I’m just worried about you. I love you. I want you to be happy!”
“I am happy, Mom.” I would be happier if the pancakes I ordered would arrive in time to interrupt the conversation before she reminded me my biological clock was ticking and she wanted grandchildren. If the food would come, I wouldn’t have to convince her I didn’t need a husband.
“Well, sure, you like your job and your friends, but you can’t be single forever.” Now what? I looked toward the kitchen, silently begging for the swinging doors to open.
“I won’t be.”
My mom sighed, and the older woman at the table next to us shook her head like she agreed. As if she knew me at all. “How can you be so sure? You’re so stubborn, you don’t like any of the really eligible bachelors I set you up with.”
“I…” I sucked in a deep breath. I couldn’t believe what I was going to do. “I met someone,” I blurted out just before the doors to the kitchen flung open. If only I had waited three seconds longer, I could’ve avoided the look of relief on my mom’s face and the air of nosiness that drifted off her.
“You met someone?” Her attitude was gone instantly, and she ignored the waitress as she set our plates down in front of us except for to lean over so she could see around her arm.
“Well why didn’t you just say that? Tell me everything!
What is his name? What does he do? Is he from here? What’s his mom like?”
I put my hand up to stop the onslaught of questions that would never end on its own—not that I could answer any of those questions besides his name.
I couldn’t tell my mom he worked with the Cassidys.
That was a disaster waiting to happen. “He’s really nice.
We’re just getting to know each other, but I think I like him. ”
“When do I get to meet him?” I practically heard the wedding bells in her mind come to a halt when I shook my head.
“Not yet. It’s way too soon for that.”
My mom sighed dramatically, but she couldn’t quell the grin that stretched across her face or the excited dance she couldn’t stop herself from doing in the seat.
“Fine,” she said, pulling her plate closer and unwrapping her silverware from the napkin.
“But you can’t hide him from me forever.
Your brothers find out about everything. ”
My stomach sank, and with it, my appetite disappeared.
Suddenly, the pancakes I had been craving smelled like a looming threat.
What would Giaco and Ronan do when they found out who he was?
My mom was going to mention it to them, and she was right.
I cut into the pancake and pushed a piece across the plate, dragging it through the syrup and leaving it there.
Your brothers find out about everything.
I gulped and lowered my voice to a whisper I didn’t think she’d be able to hear over the hum of the diner. “Yeah, that’s kinda what I’m worried about.”