Page 89 of Sweeter Than Fiction

“Good point,” he says, but he just goes back to watching football before Kaylee jumps up onto the couch with him to start asking a million questions about what’s on his phone.

I make my way into the kitchen and ask my mom, “Why did you send Abby with Jill?”

“Honey, I didn’t send her. You were asleep, and Abby came out here shortly after Jill arrived. They started talking, and when I needed butter, Abby volunteered to go with.”

“Poor thing doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.”

Mom points her finger at me. “You need to give your sister some credit. She’s the whole reason you decided to actually ask Abby out, remember?”

“That point isn’t lost on me. But I also know that Jill can be a bit much sometimes. I don’t want her to scare off the first girl that I’ve cared about in a really long time.”

“Your sister would never do that. Jill cares about you way too much. I think she just wants to get to know someone you care about—just like I did.”

“You’re nicer than Jill,” I argue.

She pats me on the shoulder. “Give your sister some credit. She loves you and just wants to see you happy.”

Deciding to take her advice, I watch my mother walk around the kitchen, cooking a giant meal and seemingly enjoying herself.

“Mom, how have you been?” I ask.

“Oh, I’ve been alright, I guess.”

“What have you been up to? You been keeping busy?”

“Eh, I guess watching Kaylee during the day keeps me pretty busy.”

“Have you been hanging out with anyone lately?”

She stops peeling potatoes and looks at me. “What is this? What is it that you want to know?” She waves the peeler as she talks.

“Jill told me you were thinking about doing some online dating.”

Realization hits her face. “Your sister started freaking out because I started playing Scrabble online. A couple of older gentlemen tried messaging me about things other than the game.”

“And you did what?” I ask, drawing out each word.

“I blocked them. I get on there to play Scrabble, darlin’—not drop my drawers.”

I never thought I would hear my mother use that phrase. Not going to lie—it’s a little unnerving.

“I just don’t want you to get lonely,” I tell her.

“Who says I’m lonely?”

Jill.

“I’m not saying you are. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t fault you if you wanted to start dating. You’ve been single a really long time. You gave up a lot for Jill and me.”

She puts the peeler down and grabs the towel draped over her shoulder to wipe her hands. “Sweetheart, listen to me. If you think I have been celibate your entire thirty-five years of life, you are wrong. Through the years, I’ve dated, and I’ve done just fine for myself. Even now.”

“What?” I ask, unable to say anything else.

“Don’t look so surprised. Better shut that mouth of yours before a bug flies in.”

“When? How?”

“Donovan, when you and Jill were little, dating took a back seat. But as you got older, you both got busier. I had more time to do my own thing.”

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