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Every time Mom laughs, she pats Slade on the back. I wish I knew what they were talking about.

“Could she be drunk?” Joss whispers.

I let out a shout of laughter. Oops. Like mother, like daughter. “No. My parents don’t drink.”

“Could she be high?” Joss asks.

I don’t laugh this time. “Absolutely not. My parents are as straight-laced as they come.”

“Huh. Your mom’s a hoot,” Joss comments. “I like her. She’s the life of the party.”

My mom is never the life of the party. She’s usually likeBaby, quietly sitting in the corner. I’m not sure if Joss will get my joke, so I keep it to myself.

At dinner, Slade brings up the subject we’ve been wanting to share with my parents. They listen quietly as Slade shares some of the story and Lauren fills in more details about Slade’s real father. My mom and dad oooh and aaah at the appropriate times, and nod in sympathy at others. My mom even wipes away a few tears for Slade’s predicament.

“That being said,” Slade offers. “I’ve decided to travel to Italy to meet my father, if I can find him. I can’t wait. I don’t want to miss the chance of meeting him. I’ve asked Marin to come with me. We’re leaving tomorrow for Venice. We felt it was important for you to know where your daughter will be—and who she’ll be with.” He wraps his arm around me.

A deafening silence encompasses the table. My parents’ faces are blank. I think they might be in shock.

My mom recovers first, her eyes watching Slade’s hand massage my shoulder. “Well, of course, Marin should go with you. You can’t face that alone. You need moral support.”

Shock shudders through my system. Do I know my mother? Last time I checked we were the best of friends. Who is this woman?

My father studies me thoughtfully. “Is that why we’re really here today?”

“Yes,” I tell him softly. “I didn’t want you to worry about me. I wanted you to meet Slade. I wanted you to know I was with someone safe. I’m not making rash decisions or making stupid choices.”

“I would never think that of you, Marin. Your mother and I trust you.” There’s a tinge of disappointment in Dad’s voice.

“I couldn’t leave without telling you. I can’t stand the idea of you worrying about me. And, yes, after what happened with Blu, I know how worried you’ve been about me. You can’t hide it. I love how much you care about me. But I care about you too. I love you both so much.” That came out much more effusive than I intended.

Mom shakes her head. “We appreciate that, Marin. Don’t you worry about a thing. Everything’s fine. Your father and I are fine. Thank you for inviting us here today. It means the world to us. Thank you for sharing your plans with us so we won’t worry about you. But sweetheart, a mother and father never stop worrying about their children. It’s part of the bargain when it comes to parenthood. Even when your daughter is a grown woman.”

“Agreed,” Lauren comments. “It’s a package deal.”

“Don’t I know it.” Tate reaches out to stroke Joss’s cheek.

“Besides, we know you’ll be safe with Slade,” my mom comments with her never-before-heard fluttery laugh.

What? I was sure I was due for a respectful, we-know-you’re-a-grown-up-but…lecture.How well do you really knowthis man? How do you know you can trust him? Will you have separate hotel rooms? What are his expectations? Have you discussed this? It’s important to set boundaries. Are you on the rebound? You can’t be too careful thesedays. Are you just trying to forget Blu? Is Slade a player? How many girlfriends has he had? Why isn’t he married? How do you know he’ll respect you? Will he go back on his word once you’re in Venice?

You know, the third degree. All the questions parents usually ask. Instead, nothing. Except a happy bon voyage and have a great time.

I’m baffled. I mean, this is what I wanted. Still, I expected a tiny bit of resistance.

“Mom, are you done eating?” I blurt out.

She looks confused. “Yes, I’m done. It was delicious, Slade. I love a man who can cook…”

“Will you take a walk on the beach with me?” I interrupt.

“Of course, sweetie. Will the handsome Slade be joining us?” Mom’s eyes remain on Slade. They don’t even glance at me.

“No. I’d like some alone time with you, please.”

“Oh, okay. Sounds serious. Am I in trouble? Can I be grounded, please? I’d love to spend a week in my room with nothing else to do.” Her fluttery laugh follows.

My mother is not funny. She doesn’t make jokes. And she doesn’t make flirty comments toward younger men. Namely the man her daughter is dating. Her definition of a cougar is a wild animal.

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