Page 62 of One Timer With A Wingman

“Okay.” Mom walks over to the couch.

“Can I get you a coffee or something cold to drink?” Aaron asks.

“I’ll take a Coke if you have one,” Mom asks.

“Uh, sorry, we don’t have sodas. Too much sugar. We’re all athletes here,” Aaron says.

“Whatever you have,” Mom says. Aaron nods and walks off to the kitchen.

When he’s out of earshot, Mom leans into me. “What the hell am I doing here, Briar? This is a nice place. You shacking up with this guy?”

“I still live in my old house. But my roommates were home, so I thought it would be more comfortable to meet here,” I explain.

Aaron returns with what looks like sparkling water with ice. Mom takes a sip and makes a sour face.

“Can I get the keys, Briar? Sorry to do this, but I’m in a tough situation. Your siblings are costing me a small fortune.”

“Uh, yes,” I say, and my insides start to shake.

“Actually.” Aaron grabs hold of my hand. The strength and warmth of his touch makes me feel grounded. “We have some news.”

“I’m having a baby,” I say to Mom.

“You’re what?” Mom asks.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Why the hell would you do that? You want to throw your whole life away?” she asks.

My gut twists.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Halle, I mean, Mrs. Storm, or whatever it is now,” Aaron says, his voice leaking sarcasm. “It’s true that we didn’t plan on getting pregnant, but this baby is on the way and your daughter and I couldn’t be happier. We expect you to share in our joy. If you don’t find that possible, you can leave.”

My jaw drops. No one has ever spoken to Mom like that before. She’s usually the one beating people up with her words.

“This is why you brought me here, Briar?” Mom asks.

“We wanted to share the news together,” I explain softly.

“Well, I don’t have any money to help you out. I always told you to keep your legs crossed. You should’ve listened.” Her words have the bite they intend and hit me in the center of my chest.

“She doesn’t need any money from you,” Aaron snaps at Mom. “What she needs is a supportive mom, but you don’t know what that means, do you?” he asks and he stares at her waiting for an answer. Who is this guy?

“Briar, give your mom the keys,” Aaron says to me.

I drop the fob into her hand.

“Thank you.” Mom stands. “I think it’s best I go.”

“Okay,” Aaron says to her. “Come back when you can be kind.”

Mom’s eyes narrow on him. She hisses and mutters something under her breath before she stalks toward the front door, opens it to leave, and slams it behind her.

I can’t help the tears that follow her departure.

“Hey,” Aaron says and then he hugs me, pulling me into his strong arms. My head rests against his chest and I take in his scent of sandalwood and something sweet, maybe shea butter or coconuts. It reminds me of our time in Punta Cana.

I don’t know if our friends overheard that horrible encounter. I spent a lot of time in my early years at Riverside trying to cover up that I had a dysfunctional family, and now Mom showed her crazy to the whole house.

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