Page 184 of Curvy Girl Summer

I followed her voice to see her whipping up something that smelled delicious. The closer I got, the more I realized I was hungry.

“Hey, Mom,” I greeted her. “What’s that?”

“I’m making a beef stew for your grandmother so she can putsomething hearty on her stomach. Well, I’m making it for everyone, but at your grandmother’s request.”

“She still not feeling well?”

“She seems to be recovering well. She’s downstairs in the den.” Mom put the ladle down and gave me a hug. “How is my birthday girl?”

“I’m great,” I told her honestly.

“You look great.”

The yellow dress I was wearing was cute, but she’d seen it before and told me it was too loud. My hair wasn’t as pulled together as I usually had it because I didn’t have any products with me, and she hated it when my hair wasn’t neat.

“Thank you…” I stretched the word out as I tried to figure out what was going on. “You hate this dress.”

“Yes, it’s too bright. But I’m not talking about the dress.” She gently jammed her pointer into my chest. “I’m talking about you. You’re glowing.”

“Am I?”

“You were glowing last night, too. I told your father when you did your toast at dinner. There’s something happening with you.”

“I’m in a good place,” I admitted, my smile stretching across my face.

She shook some seasoning into the pot, and then she turned back to me. “Does it have anything to do with that man of yours?”

I froze. “What?”

She went to the kitchen table and grabbed her phone. “You told me and your father that you didn’t have a date and that you were happy on your own. So imagine our surprise when we leave your party and wake up to this.” Holding out her phone, she showed me picture after picture of me and Ahmad—dancing on the dance floor, kissing on the dock, sitting on the bench. Random photos of us being taken without our knowledge.

“Who—?”

“Mecca,” she answered.

“Does she work for the tabloids?” I grumbled.

“Now don’t get mad at her. She thought we knew.”

“No, she didn’t. She was just being her nosy self.”

“Her mother was the same way,” Mom admitted with a smirk. “But don’t try to change the subject. Who is this young man, and when do we get to meet him?”

“His name is Ahmad, and I will let you know,” I told her begrudgingly.

Her smile was a little too excited. “He’s the one.”

Just her saying that caused my stomach to knot. “Mom, I need you to chill.”

“How long have you two been dating?” She studied the pictures on the phone. “You two look really comfortable together.”

I let out a short laugh. “Mom, I’m not doing this.”

She put her phone down and went to the sink to wash her hands. “Not doing what?” she questioned innocently.

I saw right through her.

“Mom.”

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