Page 85 of It's Always Us

Bob, theboyfriend, who looks like he belongs in an old western, steps forward and sticks out his hand. He’s short and broad with a bit of a potbelly that stretches the pearl snaps on his shirt, which somehow goes with his jeans and work boots. He smiles, but it’s covered with one of those thick, full mustaches that hide a large portion of his face.

“Alex, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m glad we’re finally meeting.”

I shake his hand, wanting to make like an opossum and play dead. Maybe then I can go home.

“Come on and sit down,” Mom says, ushering me to a seat. “I hope you’re hungry. I made your favorite.”

I watch my mom flit around while Bob joins me at the small table. “So, Alex, your mom says you work in a garage.”

I avoid eye contact, not wanting to talk to this man about my profession or anything else. “Yes.”

“I’m a car guy, myself. My son and I fixed up an old Corvette.”

“Alex bought an old truck in high school and flipped it,” my mom says like she’s talking about a house. “She still drives that old thing around. You can’t even tell it belonged in the junkyard.”

“Oh yeah,” Bob perks with interest. “What make and model?”

“F-150.”

“No kidding. What year? I had one of those when I was in high school.”

Mom takes a break from Betty Crockering and wraps her arms around Bob’s neck.

Why? Why did I do this to myself?I want to jab my eyes out with a dull fork and use the candle to pour the hot wax into my ears, so I don’t have to endure another second of this.

I’ve spent too much time with Mark. His dramatics are contagious. I bite my lip to prevent my smile.

Do I want my mom to be happy? Of course, I do. I’ve just been down this road and met too many of ‘the one’ to want to extend my limited amount of social energy on a strange man who’s temporarily hanging around.

When I don’t respond, my mom jumps in. “We’ll eat in a few.”

Bob checks his watch. “Yeah, Brad should be here any minute.”

Uh. What now?My hand slides over my babies. “Brad?”

My mom smiles that sickening, sweet smile. My gag reflex is in full working order these days, and I for sure might upchuck the limited contents of my stomach.

“Bob’s son. We thought it would be fun for you two to meet. He’s about your age and really into cars.”

I have no idea what my face does, but it definitely feels like, ‘Oh, hell no.’

I’m not doing this. I’m not sitting here while these two adults try to play house or matchmaker or whatever the heck this is when I have major stuff to worry about.

I stand, and my mom’s eyes grow wide. “I’m sorry, but—”

The door opens, and who I assume is Brad steps in.Well, let’s just give Brad a key.I contemplate making a run for it, but he’s blocking the doorway.

“Sorry, am I late?” he asks as the awkwardness seeps through the room like one of Wind’s massive bombs.

Brad is taller, broad, and lean, with blond hair and light eyes. He steps further into the small kitchen, allowing my eyes to flick between Bob and him. They don’t look anything alike. If I cared, I’d ask clarifying questions, but I remain standing and silent.

“You must be Alex,” he says as if he’s heard a thing or two about me and offers his hand.

I want to ring my mom’s neck.

I shake his hand with my burning hot one, and I don’t even care if I leave sweat behind. If I weren’t married to the absolute and literal sexiest man alive, I might think he’s mildly attractive.

Mark. Why in the hell isn’t he here with me? I clench my jaw. We could have gotten in, told her we’re married and having babies, and gotten out. TOGETHER.

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