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The normalcy of her greeting snaps me out of it and I follow suit, hugging my mom and carrying in the bag of food we brought with us. This time it’s not takeout.
“We decided to cook something for you tonight,” I tell my mom and despite looking worse for wear, she breaks into a wide grin.
“Oh you two, you don’t have to do that,” she says.
“We wanted to,” I reply, and Jada and I exchange a smile. “Besides, Florence has been giving me a couple of pointers and I think my cooking is getting better, especially with Jada to help me.”
“I’ll get the plates,” Jada says and disappears into the kitchen while I help my mom sit comfortably.
“I’m so happy for you, Carter,” she says while Jada’s out of earshot. “I think you should hold on to her.”
“I’m doing my best,” I tell her, trying not to make any bold promises.
But I can see how much joy is in her eyes. Even through the sickness, it’s clear that she’s genuinely happy.
“Alright,” comes Jada’s voice as she rejoins us with everything we need for dinner. “The food should still be hot. I hope you like spaghetti.”
“If it’s something you and Carter made, then I already love it,” she says, reaching out and touching Jada’s arm as she sets the plates down.
“And if it agrees with what you can eat, right mom?” I say, trying to see if I can swing the conversation around to her least favorite topic – her health.
She gives me a look, but I press on.
“How’s the treatment going?” I ask, serving up a pile of spaghetti onto my mom’s plate.
“Oh you know, it’s going,” she says, not making eye contact.
“Well, what are the doctors saying?”
“They say I have a wonderful son and a beautiful daughter-out-of-law,” she jokes with a twinkle in her eye.
“Mom…” I say, but I can’t help but smile at her mischievous answer.
Even though I know she must be suffering, it’s clear how happy she is to see me with Jada. I’m just glad the two of them get along so well.
“Well you can tell them hi from me,” Jada quips back, and the two of them chuckle a little, like old friends sharing a joke.
I shake my head, but I’m smiling as I do, and I don’t say anything else. Instead I serve up some spaghetti on Jada’s plate, then mine.
“I hope you like it, Mom,” I say and she flashes me a warm smile.
The three of us take our first bites in silence and I have to say, I’m proud of the way the meal turned out. Mom seems to like it too.
“This is delicious,” she says, closing her eyes and savoring the taste. When she opens them again, she looks between us both pointedly. “I love how in sync you two are.”
“Like Justin and Lance,” Jada says without missing a beat.
“And JC and Joey and Chris,” I finish, and we exchange a look before bursting out laughing.
My mom is looking between us, baffled but clearly pleased that we’ve got our own little in-jokes.
“They’re the members of NSYNC,” I explain once Jada and I have recovered.
“It’s a band,” Jada chimes in when my mom’s expression doesn’t change.
“Oh, that’s nice,” she says. “Maybe if you ever decide to get married, you could play one of their songs at the wedding.”
She looks sneakily between us, as if knowing she’s pushing it a little with such a suggestion. She clearly doesn’t know what boy bands sound like, and Jada and I laugh at the thought of having our guilty pleasure music playing at our fake wedding. Besides, Jada and I still haven’t made any decisions about getting married and, at least for my part, the jokes about NSYNC are an easy way to avoid talking about that.
