“So, anything else we should know about? Anyone in your life that’s new?”
I narrowed my gaze at her, wondering if Isabella had mentioned anything. Of course my best friend wouldn’t. Just because my mom happens to adore Isabella, it didn’t mean that my best friend would break my confidence. However, my pause seemed to have done it all on its own.
“There is somebody. Tell me about him.”
We made our way to a food truck, and I bought us both breakfast tacos and coffee. “Eat this and stop prying.”
“You’re lucky I love you, and that I love egg and potato and bean tacos.”
“I went with barbacoa, because eggs are disgusting.”
“You love deviled eggs.”
“That doesn’t count.”
“Now tell me,” Mom said, and I did my best not to get grease everywhere, knowing that the barbacoa taco wasprobably going to settle in my stomach later and I was going to regret it, but it was fine.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s something if you’re hiding it. Who is he?”
“It’s not really a thing. It’s just coffee.”
“Coffee. Tell me more.”
“There’s nothing to tell. It’s just coffee and an introduction.”
“So a blind date?” she asked, curiosity in her gaze.
I shook my head. “Not exactly.”
“You know the more mysterious you act, the more I want to know.”
“You know it was so much easier when I was a teenager. I could tell you everything. And Dad of course. You guys have loved me and taken care of me my entire life, and I’ve always been able to come to you. But it’s weird now. Isn’t it?”
“Life is never easy. But it can be fulfilling and loving. And you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I pry because I love you.”
“I feel like I should embroider that on a pillow for you,” I said dryly.
“You can get it for me for Christmas.”
“I just might,” I said, before finishing my taco, grateful for the wet wipe that I had picked up from the truck.
“It’s a coffee date, and not our first date.”
“Oh?”
“Though I’m not sure the first time we had coffee counted.”
“You’ve lost me,” Mom said as she rolled up her leftover foil.
I took it from her, and threw everything in the trash, as we continued our walk to the parking lot.
“It’s with Aston,” I said softly, and my mom froze.
“Aston Cage. The man you danced with?” she asked, and I was grateful that her voice was low. It wasn’t like the Cages were famous and people would know their names just by saying it out loud. But it felt a little too public. The Cages weren’t in the news anymore. There were countless other things going on in the world, but they had been for a time thanks to the whole secret family thing.
And I didn’t want things to get weirder than they already were.