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I could object, claim it was too much.
But this was my mom.
She would find a way around me if I didn’t just get her what she wanted. And perhaps warn poor Savannah while I was at it.
“Okay, Mom. I’m sure she and her mom will really appreciate it.”
“Have you met her mother?” she asked, and that damn tone was back. The one I knew my mother well enough to know meant ‘Does this mean my perpetually single son is getting serious about a woman?’
“Over her daughter’s bleeding body, yes,” I said, trying to drive home that this wasn’t a meet-cute.
The mission was accomplished as her face went serious again. “That poor woman. Seeing your children hurt… there is nothing worse.”
“Sofia says we are going to all be frequenting their establishment when it reopens,” Valley said as she hopped off the counter.
Even though she had no work that day, she had on emerald green wide-leg slacks, a white blouse, and heels. Her light brown wavy hair was pulled back into a low bun, and she had mascara and liner around her light green eyes.
“Yeah. I think they could use the business,” I told her.
“Well, we can certainly give them that,” my mother said, nodding, having a new mission in life. Keeping the woman who’d saved her son in business. “Do you know when it will reopen?” she asked.
“I don’t. But it is just her and her mom. So I imagine it will be a while, as Savannah recovers.”
“Savannah. What a beautiful name,” my mom declared.
“It would go so well with Grassi, don’t you think?” Valley asked, smirking at the death glare I shot her.
“How’s the love life, Valley?” I asked. “Any men we should know about?” I asked, always happy to deflect. As bad as our mom was on all of us male children, she was even harder on Valley about settling down.
“Right. Like I would subject any man I was seeing to the likes of you all,” she said, rolling her eyes.
“Your career is important,” our mother said as she started to plate the food. “But so is a family, if you still want one,” she added.
“I do,” Valley said. “But it’s normal for women not to have kids until after their mid-twenties now,” she reminded her.
The conversation turned mostly to family stuff over breakfast, as it always did when you had one as massive as ours. There was always something going on. Someone who got whacked with a spatula because they cussed out their mom or, worse yet, insulted the dinner she lovingly prepared for them. Someone dating someone unworthy. A birthday or anniversary coming up. Pregnancy announcements. New apartments.
It was only as we were bringing our plates to the dishwasher when my mom asked, “What does Savannah look like?”
“Like sunlight,” I said, shocking even myself, my eyes widening at that declaration. I was not a poetic sort of man. The looks on my mom and sister’s faces looked equally as surprised. “She’s very blonde,” I clarified. “Big smile,” I added, trying to make the first comment make some sense. “Green eyes.” I went ahead and left out how they looked like moss you would find in the depths of the woods.
“How old is she?”
“I didn’t ask,” I said, shrugging. “Around Valley’s age, I guess. Twenty-five or six.”
I knew as soon as I said that part that I’d just added more fuel to the fire that was my mother’s vision of seeing me settle down with the woman who saved my life.
So I went ahead and thanked her for breakfast and hauled ass out of that house before I said anything else that would get everyone gossiping.
Luckily, when it came to the moms of the family, claiming there was aFamilymeeting was always an excuse to get out of damn near any situation.
It wasn’t a lie, either. I was fifteen minutes late for the meeting, rolling in when everyone else was already gathered around, drinking coffee.
“Sorry. Ma dropped over to make me breakfast and give me shit about not being the one to tell her about the shooting.”
“Rookie move, man,” Lucky said, shaking his head.
“What did I miss?” I asked, taking a seat next to my brothers.
