Page 122 of All We Need

“Yes, darling.Andhe invited us for dinner atOurPlace.”Mymother has hearts in her eyes.

I’m still in shock asIimagineBoothflirting with my mom.He’dsay all the right things, making her blush and calling her my older sister.He’dcharm the socks of my dad with his work ethic and strong leadership skills.

It’s too much.

“Did he say anything else?”

They both lean forward, trying to catch my gaze asIavoid eye contact.

“Should he have?” my mom presses.

“No.Justcurious.”

There’s no fooling them. “Ishe your boyfriend?”

My head swings around to gawk at my mom. “No,Mother.He’sa friend.Anemployee of the restaurant.”OneIoccasionally get naked with.

“Hmm.”Sheinspects her nails. “I’venever known anemployeeto speak so ardently about their boss.Wouldn’tyou agree,Daniel?”

“Yes, my love,”Dadreplies.

What on earth is happening?

“Okay, enough of that.”Ivault from my seat. “Letme make up the bed for you.”

“And where will you sleep?” my mom quizzes as she follows me into the bedroom.

“On the sofa.”

She perches herself on the edge of the mattress.Hereyes follow me asIgather fresh bedsheets.Atsixty-two, she’s still the epitome ofMediterraneanbeauty.Wavy, mocha-colored hair, piercing brown eyes, and olive skin.Mydad’s family isIrish, with fair skin, fair hair, and green eyes.Becauseof my dark hair, it’s easy to assumeIfavor her.

The diamond engagement ring she’s worn for the last forty years glistens as she pats the bed. “Comesit.”

“Let me finish this,Mama.”Igive her my back and close my eyes.Notready for a one-on-one conversation.

“Now,Alessandra.Weneed to talk.”Herserious tone has the same effect it did whenIwas younger.

I play the obedient daughter and join her.Shesnatches my hand up and kisses the back, her nude lipstick smudging across my knuckles.

“I love your brothers unconditionally, but in my dreams,Isaw a third child.I’vealways believed dreams to be our future, should we play our cards right.AfterIhadAlexis, and they told meIcouldn’t have any more children,Iwas heartbroken.Iasked your father every night, ‘WhatdidIdo?WhyamIbeing punished?’”Herexpression turns thankful. “Yourfather was wonderful during those dark days, reassuring meIdid nothing wrong.Anddo you know what happened five years later?”

My vision blurs.Iknow what happened, but she tells me anyway.

“My beautiful, fierce, inspiring daughter was born.Andour family was complete.”Thefine lines around her eyes deepen as she smiles nostalgically. “Youmight not be my blood, but you are my heart.”

I mirror her smile as my chest aches. “I’venever doubted that.IthinkIended up with the familyIwas supposed to.”

Her fingers caress my cheek as she regards me carefully. “Butyou doubt your heart?Youkeep it locked away and only share it with a select few.”

Dropping my gaze,Itrace the polished gold bands adorning her finger.

“Look at me, thisavré mou,” she whispers.

WhenIdo, her eyes sparkle with sadness and my lip stings asItry to stave off the tears.

“That heart of yours deserves to be loved.Stopthinking it doesn’t.Nothingthat happened when you were born or when you met your birth mother is any reflection of the woman youare.ThisMartinis trying.Andfrom what you have told us, he is a lot like you.Guardedand wary of opening up.Pleasedo not hide the marvelous years you’ve gifted me as your mother from the people who want to know you.”

In the company of my mom,Idon’t have to be strong.Shedoes it for me.Ifall into her arms and let go.Anger, sadness, regret, gratitude.Eachtear represents a different emotion.Everyheave of my chest asIsob in her embrace alleviates the crushing pressureI’vebeen walking around with.

---