Page 27 of Myla: The Hawthornes

“Besides, our family is so big, by the time everyone’s done picking it over, there won’t be anything left.”

“I knew there was a reason I had so many children.” She paused. “There’s a couple of nightstands.” She pointed across the room.

I looked at them. “Too bulky.”

“Too bad,” Mom mumbled, pulling me along. “So, what’s new with you?”

My head whipped toward her. “What makes you ask?”

Mom snorted. “Nice try with the mascara,” she said dryly. “But what you really needed were some cold cucumbers for those eyes.”

“Me and Cian had a thing last night,” I confessed, looking down at the table. “A fight, I guess.”

“What, another one?” She looked at me in surprise. “I thought you guys weren’t talking. How the hell did that happen?”

“Who told you we weren’t talking?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“He came over to boss me around—”

“Typical,” she muttered.

“And it pretty much went downhill from there,” I hedged. I generally told my mom everything, but the argument was still a little too raw to give her a play-by-play.

“You two need to just get over it and have sex already,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Mom,” I hissed, glancing over my shoulder to make sure we didn’t have any eavesdroppers. There were people everywhere.

“I know we’ve had the birds and the bees conversation,” she said, moving down the table. “But we can go over it again if you need to.”

“Why can’t you clam up and change the subject like other moms?” I whispered, following her.

“Sorry, baby, you’re stuck with the mom you got.” She grinned unrepentantly.

“He doesn’t want to have sex with me anyway,” I mumbled.

Mom froze and looked at me over her shoulder before bursting into laughter.

“I’m serious.”

“I can see that,” she said, still smiling. “But you’re still wrong.”

“That’s what he said.”

“He said he doesn’t want to have sex with you?”

“He said hecaresabout me,” I admitted.

“I’m sure he does.” Her lips twitched.

“Yeah, it’s real funny,” I griped, pointing at my face. “I obviously thought it was super funny half the night, too.”

“Aw, baby,” she said, the smile dropping off her face. She pulled me into a hug, bumping into a middle-aged guy that was trying to see around us. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that,” I replied glumly, slumping against her.

“Oh, but I can,” she said, pulling away. “I’ll bet you ten dollars that Cian calls you by the end of the day.”

---