Page 50 of Let’s Be Real

I turned to her. “How did you know that? You’re asleep when I come home.”

She lifted a dainty shoulder and dabbed her lips with her napkin. “I’ve been having trouble sleeping and heard you two chatting. I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear. I just thought it was nice.”

Before I could think of a response, Mom bit out an admonishment. “If you insist on keeping odd hours, Samantha, the least you could do is be quiet when you come home.”

I ignored her, turning toward Kelly. “I didn’t know you were having trouble sleeping.”

“I have a lot on my mind. I usually fall asleep when you come home, though. I feel better knowing you’re…you know, safe.” She focused on her plate, dragging her fork through the green sauce.

“I’m safe at work. You don’t have to worry about me.” I meant it, even though it was kind of nice to know someone was.

“I imagine the type of people who frequent your club are the opposite of safe,” Mom said.

“You have no idea the type of people who come to our club.”

She sniffed. “And I don’t want to know.”

I would never tell her, but she knew a few of our members very well. Joining MHC wasn’t cheap. There were members who were part of my parents’ circle and others far above them in the social strata. But I’d let her believe our clientele was made up of delinquents and miscreants. The last thing I’d want was her showing any interest in my career.

Once Mom paid the bill, she took Kelly by the hand and leaned close. “You’ll speak to Josh this week. You will do everything you can to work this out. If you put in the effort and find you still can’t forgive him then we can discuss that.”

Kelly blinked at her several times. “You do know I’m thirty years old, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I gave birth to you.”

She blinked again. “Then why would you think you have any say over my relationship?”

Mom shot me a jagged-edged look, the muscle above her lip ticcing. “You’re clearly not yourself right now. You sound far too much like Samantha for me to take you seriously.”

“Thank you,” Kelly said.

Mom was taken aback, her eyes darting between us. “You know very well that wasn’t a compliment.”

Kelly flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “I took it as one anyway.” Then she pushed back her chair and flung her napkin on the table. “Thank you for lunch, Mom. We’ll talk soon.”

She was on her feet with her bag tucked under her arm in one swift motion. I followed, murmuring a thanks to my mom on our way out.

It wasn’t until we were buckled in my car that Kelly spoke again.

“Well, that was a shit show.” She blew out a puff of breath, sending her hair flying off her face. “Let’s get ice cream.”

“Ice cream?”

She nodded, sinking into her seat.

My stomach, empty of the lunch I’d let go to waste, rumbled right on cue, and we both laughed.

“Yeah, okay. Ice cream is exactly what we need.”

Kelly was halfway through her scoop of mint chocolate chip when she jabbed her spoon into the paper cup and looked at me with a deep frown.

“She’s never spoken to me that way.”

I nodded, licking my soft-serve matcha. It was true. Kelly had always been on our mother’s good side. This situation was a first for her, and I couldn’t imagine it felt great.

She pressed her hands to the little wrought iron table we were sitting at and leaned forward. “No, I’m serious, Sam. She’s never spoken to me that way. It was like…” Her fingertips grazed her lips for a moment before something lit behind her eyes. “It was almost like she was talking to you.”

Chuffing, I stuffed my cone into my mouth, letting Kelly continue. She was almost there. She almost got it.