Page 83 of The Sweet Spot

“Actually, Wren, I have to talk to your mom for a second.”

My mother slows as he approaches, taking a couple of steps back before freezing in place. I settle into the car with Luca to watch their subdued, stilted conversation, wishing I knew what they were saying.

“What’s that about?” asks Luca, fiddling with the music on his phone.

“I have no idea.” I lean back against the headrest. “Maybe her bullshit at the end of dinner last time?”

He squeezes my knee. We talked about this at length the other night, so he knows how I feel.

“People don’t always do what we want them to.” Luca’s eyes catch mine. “Just give her time.”

But I don’t want to give her time. Arlo leaves in a few days…Mom doesn’t need to be his best friend forever, but I’d appreciate her playing nice.

“She looks like she’s listening,” Luca says, setting his phone down.

Arlo’s standing close now, talking steadily, gesturing as she looks up at him.

The surreal quality of the scene hits me square between the eyes all over again. “I can’t believe those are my parents. Both of them.”

“Arlo’s a cool guy. You look like him.”

“I do, right?” I turn in the seat, facing him. “Kind of crazy.”

His eyes soften as we look at one another in the glow of his dashboard. “I like how you look tonight. I like…this.” He rubs the edge of my dress between his fingertips.

I smile, my stomach in freefall. I’m really feeling his bomber jacket, too, and I’m about to tell him when he says, “It’s been hard, keeping my hands to myself.”

“You don’t have to keep your hands to yourself.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up as his eyes drift down. Just as he slides his hand over my thigh, fingertips skimming the sensitive skin, Mom gets back in the car.

“Sorry, guys.” She rustles loudly as she settles in and buckles her seatbelt. “Arlo just wanted to know when it would be a good time to stop by thestudio. I don’t know what your plans are for the rest of the week, so I told him to just come on over whenever the mood hits.”

I twist around, looking at her while Luca puts the car in drive, easing out of our parking spot.

“We don’t have too many concrete plans from here on out.”

Up ahead, Arlo’s rental pulls out of the lot.

“I know, but he’s here to seeyou.”

“Yes, but I like the idea of you getting to know each other,” I say quietly. Maybe that’s not fair, but it’s how I feel.

Mom pushes her hair back, nodding, and for a moment, she looks even younger than usual. Vulnerable.

Luca hands me his phone, telling me to play what I want, so I play Fleetwood Mac for Mom. A peace offering, of sorts. A thank you for behaving. An apology for asking her to behave. When we turn into the parking lot, I unbuckle my seatbelt so I can walk her upstairs. Luca slides out, too, opening Mom’s door.

“Thank you, Luca.” She pauses, slowly sliding her purse to the crook of her arm. “Feel free to come by with Wren again. I’d love to get to know you in a more…” She gestures briefly. “Casual setting.”

He dips his chin, smiling. “I will.”

“I’m not usually like this,” she says suddenly. “I don’t know what I’m doing, here.”

My heart flip flops at her bluntness. “Mom…”

“I think you’re doing all right, considering the circumstances,” Luca says.

She smiles a real smile, her blue eyes fluttering my way before refocusing on him. “You say all the right things, don’t you?”

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