Barb grins. “You go get it, girl.”
I shake my head with a laugh. “How do you make drinking hot chocolate sound dirty?”
“It’s a talent,” she says proudly.
I study them both on the screen, my heart overflowing with love. “Thank you both for caring about me so much. You have no idea how much you two mean to me.”
“We know.” Mirna’s expression softens, then she says, “You’re special to us girl, and I hope you get your heart’s desire in Vermont.”
Tears sting my eyes because I know how hard that was for her to say. “Thank you, Mirna. You and Barb are the best grandmothers a girl could ever have.” Then I hang up before I start crying.
I often feel alone in the world, but Mirna and Barb are proof that I’m not. That family is more than blood.
Chapter Thirteen
Alex
After I leave Finley and go back into the kitchen, I’m ready for my mother’s inquisition.
She looks up coyly from stirring the cocoa. “So, Finley…”
There’s no emotion in Mom’s voice to tell me what she’s really asking. It’s an open-ended question, leaving me to fill in the blanks. My back bristles and I go on the defensive. “What about her?”
Mom’s never been shy about her dislike for my girlfriends since college. I used to shrug it off. Now I’m on edge in a way I haven’t been before. The only logical explanation I can come up with is Finley’s sweetness. She’s like a baby bird that’s fallen out of the nest. Or a baby bunny whose nest has been rooted out by the neighbor’s dog. How can I not feel protective?
“She’s sweet,” she says with a soft smile. “I like her.”
The relief I feel at her approval is both welcome and irritating.
“Yeah,” Mallory says. “I do too.” Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “What’s up with that?”
I expected this from Tyler and Grant but not my sister. I try to play clueless. “What’s up with what?”
“Like Mom said. She’s sweet. Nice.”
The defensiveness is back. Is she insulting Finley? “What’s wrong with nice?”
“Nothing’s wrong with nice,” she says. “I love nice. I love Finley. But you have to admit that nice doesn’t describe your typical girlfriend. Driven. Ruthless. Glamorous is your usual type. Not girl-next-door nice.”
I have to admit she’s right, but I’m still annoyed. “There’s nothing wrong with Finley.” Then a new fear hits me. What if she walks in and hears this conversation? The last thing I want is for her to feel like she’s being attacked.
Mallory rolls her eyes. “I thought I made it pretty clear I love Finley. It’s your previous girlfriends I’m dissing.”
Maybe I should defend the honor of my past girlfriends, but I don’t see the point. “Those women are in the past. Why are you bringing them up?”
“I’m just trying to figure out why you changed your type,” she says as she walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a bag of marshmallows.
“What can I say?” I force a smile. “She won me over.”
“I can see why,” Mom says. She’s been strangely quiet during our exchange. “She’s a lovely girl, Alex. What happened to her mother?”
I feel a moment of panic, but realize I actually know the answer to this. “Breast cancer.”
Mom shakes her head, looking sad. “She said her father died when she was young. She doesn’t have any grandparents?”
The panic is back. Why didn’t I think to find out these things? Then I remember what she said at dinner. “Her father was estranged with his family.”
“And her maternal grandparents?”
