Page 71 of Sex. Love. Marriage.

To maintain a sense of politeness, I smile at my mom and introduce her to our friends. She says nothing to them. No, hey, so nice to meet you, or hello, only, “Do you have any vodka?”

Bonner watches my mom curiously and gives Noah a look that says something like, who’s the bitch? Noah shrugs.

Mom sits next to Ashlynn. Naturally, given Ashlynn’s bubbly personality, she offers her hand. “Hello, I’m Ashlynn. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Nina and you look like you have loose morals,” Mom says, staring at Ashlynn’s chest.

More than one of us gasps. For being a bitch for the most part, my mom is southern, and girls like Ashlynn aren’t from around our town. If they are, they’re in the cities and usually at a strip club.

“She certainly ain’t loose,” Bonner adds quickly.

Jason laughs and high-fives Bonner. And then Bonner grins and gives Noah a raised-eyebrow look, to which he just shrugs again and takes another drink of his beer.

I watch his every action, trying to decipher his mood and what might happen next. Whenever my mom is around, he’s like a ticking time bomb and I never know if the next wire we touch is going to detonate a reaction. Sitting next to me, Noah’s hand lightly grazes my knee as he does so. Is that a reassurance? Is it a “hey, I’m here for you,” or is it, “I’m only doing this to keep up the assumption we have a perfect relationship?”

I don’t know the answer to any of it. I do know I have a headache, and bursting into tears could possibly happen at any minute.

Ashlynn takes Mom’s comment well, smiles her perfect white teeth, and says, “Thank you, I think.”

We gather around the table and begin eating, most of us silent besides the kids and their laughter.

“So you’re all neighbors then?” Mom asks.

It’s then Gretchen and my mother make small talk for a few minutes. Maybe they have some things in common. I really like Gretchen, but you have to admit, she’s a bit uptight at times. Which is why I sat her next to my mom.

Afraid to look up, I keep my head down, my attention only drawn when Sevi, who has been sitting on my lap, pushes his own plate onto the floor and starts eating his cut-up pieces of steak off the floor.

“Sevi, get up,” Noah whispers to him. “Eat at the table.”

Sevi looks up and growls at him.

“Little boys should eat their dinner at the table,” Mom says, because this kind of thing is unacceptable to her. She has always been a very traditional southern woman. “He shouldn’t be allowed to behave like this, regardless if he’s struggling to find a new normal.”

I don’t like the way she says “new normal,” and you can imagine Noah’s take on that too. I don’t even want to look in his direction to see what his reaction is going to be to this.

“Mom, it’s fine.” My voice is barely above a whisper. I think for sure if I speak up, everyone will hear the crack in my voice and know I’m moments away from crying.

Kate pipes up with, “He’s not hurting anything by eating his food off the floor.”

I smile at her, winking as a thank you but my mom doesn’t let it go. “It’s not fine,Kelly. It’s weird. Maverick and his wife, they got their kids a dog. Maybe you should do that.”

I’ll pause for a brief moment because there’s a reason why my mom mentions Maverick here. I’ve never mentioned him because it doesn’t matter. I had been dating him at the time when Noah and I got together. My mom loved Maverick, or shall I say she loved his family. Our moms were best friends. And yes, I cheated on Maverick with Noah. Did I plan on hurting Maverick? No. I didn’t, but I did, and it didn’t go over well but at the time, that night with Noah had led to me getting pregnant with Oliver. I’d been in love with Noah since I was five years old and moved next door to him. The most important part of all this is Maverick and Noah do not, nor have they ever, got along. So for her to bring his name up, it’s a dig at Noah.

The very instant Maverick’s name is mentioned Noah drops his fork. The sound makes me jump, but I’m quick to defend myself. “I don’t care what Maverick and his wife did. We parent Sevi this way. We let him be a dog because like Kate said, he’s not hurting anyone and it’s not harming him.”

As if I’ve said nothing, she continues, despite Noah’s clenched jaw and the silence around us. I can literally feel him vibrating beside me. “Okay, well, he could choke himself with that leash and then what?” I know exactly what she’s implying, and Noah does too. She’s implying that he could choke himself and die, and then we would have lost two kids.

“Mom, stop,” I whisper, pleading for her to let it go.

“Maverick’s a good guy. You should really give him a call sometime, Kelly. I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

Did she really just say that? What the hell does giving him a call mean? I’m married. He’s married and apparently raising his kids the right way.

“No,” Noah snaps, his voice calm but final. “She shouldn’t give him a call.”

“I think Sevi’s cute as a puppy,” Kate pipes in with, Sevi licking her hands as she holds his corn on the cob for him. Apparently, puppies can’t hold their own. “Boys act this way. August went through a stage where he pretended to be a zombie. Even used eye shadow to make his eyes look dark. It was just last week so they really never grow out of this kind of thing.”

My mom doesn’t even look in her direction, but I send a small smile Kate’s way for stepping in and making me feel better.

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