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“God, I’m not sure I could handle that,” I groan.
“They’re much more alike that you realize,” Alec comments. “You’ll understand what it’s like when you get married.”
“About that…”
Alec raises his eyebrows, then his face breaks into a smile. “Are you serious?”
“If you’re okay with it?”
“Of course I am. You’ve been together, what, two years now? I’m surprised it took you this long.”
He steps closer to me. I step back and shake my head, glancing at Becca. He looks confused, but then realization dawns on his face.
“You haven’t asked her yet.”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“When are you thinking of asking?”
“We have Grammy’s ninety-eighth birthday in Vegas this weekend. I was thinking of doing it the Friday evening. That trip really cemented our relationship, so it feels right.” I glance at him. “I’d love it if you guys could come. I know she’d love it if you guys were there—”
“Hygiene, Mother,” Becca’s voice pierces through the air. She glares at her mother, who is still trying to defend herself. “Do you even know the meaning of the word?”
I walk over there and wrap my arm around Becca, leading her away from the conversation before it gets violent.
“Say goodnight to your mother,” I say.
“‘Night,” she mutters, glaring at me.
“Karen?”
“‘Night.”
I chuckle and walk over to our car. You can just imagine what Christmas is like.
Once we’re on the road, Becca really lets her frustrations be known. She’s usually an expert at not letting her mother’s comments get to her, but these last few weeks she’d burst into tears if an egg cracked the wrong way.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
“I’m fine. She’s just so…frustrating.”
She shakes her head and looks at me, her green eyes flashing. Nobody works Becca up quite like her mom.
“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to this weekend. Some time away from my family is exactly what I need.”
I rub my jaw to try and smother a grin breaking out on my lips.
Surely she doesn’t really mean that?Friday afternoon we arrive in Vegas, ready for Grammy’s party and the surprise proposal Becca has no idea about. Once we’ve checked in, I insist that Becca relax, since she looks like she could sleep for weeks. For once she doesn’t argue, instead curling up on the bed almost as soon as I suggest it.
I lean over the king-sized bed so I can kiss her, feeling slightly guilty that I’m glad she’s not feeling well. She’d been trying to shake a virus for a couple of weeks now, but the problem was, she wouldn’t sit still for long enough to let her body recover.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Just let me sleep for three days and I’ll be fine,” she says, a tiny smile on her lips.
“I might catch up with Jake too then,” I say. “Give you some time to sleep.”
“So long as you’re not gone too long...”
I kiss her again, letting my lips linger against hers. “As if I could keep away.”I knock on the door of the suite where Grammy and Mom are staying. Mom opens the door and smiles at me, like I’ve just made her day.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy to see me,” I joke.
“Well, for once you have perfect timing,” she retorts. “I need to go out for a few minutes. Can you stay and look after—”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Grammy shouts.
“No, what you need is someone to keep you in line,” Mom snaps.
“Do I want to know?” I ask.
Mom crosses her arms over her chest. “She propositioned the bellboy after sending me downstairs to buy her some antacid.” Mom frowns. “She offered him twenty dollars to give her a very happy birthday.”
Mom glares at Grammy, who shrugs unapologetically.
I choke back laughter after Mom turns her glare on me.
“I hope the bellboy wasn’t too traumatized,” I finally say.
“I think he was more annoyed that she only offered him twenty dollars for that kind of…service,” Mom finishes. She turns to Grammy. “When you told me that you needed something to soothe the burning in your heart, I assumed it was antacid you were after.”
“He kept asking me for a tip,” she retorts. “I thought he was hinting that he offered other services.”
Rubbing my forehead, I walk over to Grammy. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry.
Mom kisses me on the cheek. “How’s my boy?” she murmurs. “Are you nervous?”
“What do you think?” I say, a small smile on my lips. “Freaking the hell out.”
“You’ll be fine. She loves you.” She smiles at me. “Everything set?”
I nod. “Almost…”
“Okay.” She pauses for a second. “Is your father coming?”
“No, you don’t have to worry about seeing him,” I assure her.
“Things still going well there?”
I shrug. “We’re never going to have a close relationship,” I say. “I think there was too much damage there for that. We catch up. We are polite toward each other, maybe even friendly,” I say with a shrug. “I think moving away from the university and into another job will help.”
