Page 37 of Half Baked

“Okay,” I said, anxiety bubbling in my stomach.

“I’d like for you to meet my mother,” he said, then quickly added, “If you’re up to it.”

Did I want to meet his mother? That was next step material, and I felt like we were practically back at square one in our relationship. If it could be called a relationship. Then again, the fact that he wanted me to meet her meant something, and I couldn’t deny that I wanted to meet the woman who’d raised him. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I’d like to meet her.”

His shoulders settled like he’d been tense waiting for my response. “Good, because she’s already asked to meet you.” He gave me a reassuring look. “I suspect she’ll be here for a few days, so maybe we can arrange to have dinner tomorrow night.” He hastily added, “If that works for you.”

I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that he wanted me to meet his mother. “I’ll see if Mal can stay with Aunt Deidre. I’m sure you don’t want to introduce your mother to the circus act that’s currently my life. At least not yet. Let’s give her a good impression first.”

He started to say something then stopped. He let out a breath and said, “Maybe it would be better to meet in a neutral place, just the three of us. We can introduce her to your aunt next time.”

I was pretty adept at reading between the lines. “So your mother will be bothered by my circus act life?”

“No, of course not,” he said, but it sounded a little too rushed to be sincere. “When my mom’s not worrying about me getting shot, she’s pretty chill.”

“Well, in her defense, I was pretty upset about you getting shot too.” From all that he’d told me on the drive to Galena, it was obvious that he loved her and valued her opinion, and I knew her approval of me was important. “Does she know that we’re taking a break?”

“No, and I’d rather not tell her, if you’re open to that. It will raise too many questions neither of us are ready to answer.”

“So we’re supposed to pretend to be together?”

“No,” he said, his voice tight. “We don’t have to label it. I doubt she’ll ask us to.”

I frowned. This sounded like it could be a recipe for disaster, but my curiosity won out. “I think tomorrow night will work. I’m sure Mallory can stay with Aunt Deidre, and if she can’t, Margarete can.” It helped that Aunt Deidre’s longtime next-door neighbor was often willing to pitch in when needed. I groaned as I remembered something. “But Mallory is going to Chattanooga to meet some of her old coworkers this weekend, so I might have to arrange for someone to stay with my aunt on Saturday. Her home health nurse has a friend who’s already agreed to stay with her on Sunday while I work.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out.”

I almost leaned over to kiss him. Now that we’d opened that door, it was hard not to. But I’d been the one to set up the boundaries, and I needed to keep them in place, so instead I opened the door and started to get out.

“Maddie.”

I glanced over my shoulder at him.

“I’ll tell you about my dad. Soon, okay?”

A tight smile twisted my lips. I hoped he was right. Something told me our relationship depended on it.

ChapterTen

Noah

On Thursday morning, the first order of business was to call the Wayfare County crime lab to see what they had on Andrea Baker’s case. I should have checked into it last November after I’d learned the case file was missing, but I’d presumed Martin Schroeder was the perpetrator. I definitely should have called after Maddie told me about Schroeder’s alibi, but I’d been caught up in other cases—and in Maddie. There was no good excuse, though, especially since it involved Maddie’s mother.

Part of me worried that Bergan hadn’t sent anything to the crime lab. Then where would we be?

I was about to find out. But first I had to leave the house and get out of my mother’s earshot.

Mom still didn’t know I was on administrative leave. She thought I was taking sick days because of the stitches in my arm, which barely bothered me. She’d driven me crazy the night before, wanting me to buy a closet system for the small bedroom closet so she could organize my clothing by colors. She’d suggested a day trip to the IKEA in Atlanta, which might as well be a day trip to hell, so I’d been grateful to tell her I had something to do for work and would be back by dinner.

“I thought you said you had the day off,” she told me with pursed lips.

When I was eight, I’d broken a window in the neighbor’s house, and somehow, my mother had magically known. Suddenly I felt like I was eight again.

“I did,” I said, trying to squirm. “But this was important.”

Her face softened. “They’re all important, Noah. But so is family.”

I felt properly chastised and almost told her itwasfor family, but Maddie wasn’t family. Not yet. It surprised me that the thought of making a family with her felt good. Right, even.

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