Page 45 of Falling in Love with Two

I manage to interrupt their arguing. “Guys! What’s going on?”

“Hold on,” Liz says. A moment later, a video chat starts, and I see the two of them. My sister’s crazy curls seem even wilder than usual.

Liz has always been thin and athletic, and honestly, she doesn’t look that different. I can’t even tell she’s pregnant unless she turns to the side.

“Looking good, sis,” I say.

She grits her teeth and points at me through the phone. “Don’t you dare patronize me, Dylan! I will waddle over there and kick your ass!”

Man, she’s kind of mean.

She turns her pointed finger toward Jack. “And you! I don’t need an escort.”

“An escort to where?” I ask.

Jack replies, “Liz has a doctor’s appointment next week. I have to fly to Miami to help my mom with something. I’ll only be gone a couple of days, but I need someone to take Liz to the appointment.”

“I am more than capable of taking myself. I can drive. I’m not an invalid,” she argues.

“The doctor said you’re two seconds away from bed rest, so no, you can’t.”

They get right back to arguing, but I don’t let them carry on for long. “Hey, Bonnie! Clyde! Shut it! Liz, I’ll take you to the doctor, and I’ll take you to lunch too. Wherever you want to go.”

The mention of food seems to calm her down a little.

“Fine. But I’m not going to be pleasant company.”

You don’t say.

A knock on the door has me hanging up the phone.

“When did I become so popular?” I mutter as I head for the door.

I open it to find my mom standing on the porch. Looking at us, you’d never guess we were related. Suzanne Lawson stands barely more than five feet tall with blonde hair and blue eyes. Poor woman had five kids, and none of them look like her. We all favor our dad’s Greek genes.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, Dyl.” She smiles.

“Everything okay?”

She holds up a brown paper bag. “Brought you some leftovers from the bar.”

I step out of the way to let her inside.

Our mom has always been amazing. She may have never been the most affectionate when we were growing up, but we all knew she would burn down the whole damn world for us. She was a great sounding board and always gave the best advice—even if it wasn’t what we wanted to hear. Our dad was always the more affectionate one. They were the perfect Yin and Yang to each other.

And now that we are all grown, Mom has gotten a little more warm and fluffy.

She walks over to the counter and takes out the to-go containers and sets them in the refrigerator.

“There are onion rings, jalapeno poppers, and some chicken fingers,” she tells me.

“Thanks. Sounds great.” I pause for a second. “You sure you’re okay? You don’t have to bring me food.”

“I just wanted to come check in. Make sure you’re okay.”

“Mom, I’m almost thirty.”

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