Page 30 of Not the Plan

“Yep.”

His eyes went wide. “Did Mr. Sexy Pants send you flowers at work?”

“He has no reason to,” Isadora said. “They’re from my mother.”

“Your mother? Why?”

“No idea. Another one of her games, I imagine.”

“Your mother sent you flowers you’re allergic to?”

“Yep,” Isadora said, opening the folder of news articles mentioning Daniel that her assistant had left on her laptop. The phone on her desk rang. “Yes?” she answered.

“Hey,” said her assistant. “I’ve got your mom on the line.”

Isadora gritted her teeth. “Did you say that I was in?” she asked.

“Um…yeah? I shouldn’t have?”

How to draw boundaries without spreading my business?If she told her assistant to always screen her mother’s calls, that would show that she and her mother had a difficult relationship, which was none of the assistant’s business. If she didn’t ask her to do that, her mother would have yet another way to intrude into her life.I just don’t have the bandwidth to figure it out right now.

“It’s okay. You can put her through,” Isadora said. “Hel—”

“Did you get the flowers?” her mother asked before Isadora could greet her. “I got a notification that the delivery had been made, but you can never trust those things.”

“Yes, Mother, I got the flowers,” Isadora said, looking at RJ, who rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t they beautiful? Don’t you have something to say?”

“Just hang up the phone,” RJ mouthed.

Isadora sighed.

“While I appreciate the gesture, did you choose magnolias or was that the florist’s decision?” she asked.

“I chose them because they’re your favorite. A mama always looks out for her baby.”

Isadora didn’t know what to say for a few seconds. RJ mouthed for her to hang up again, but she knew how that would work out later.

“Mother,” she said. “I am allergic to magnolias. I always have been.”

“No, you’re not,” she said.

“What do you mean ‘No, I’m not’?”

RJ’s eyebrows shot up.

“You’re not allergic to magnolias,” her mother said. “You love magnolias. I know my child. I know what she likes.”

Isadora sighed again.

“When I was eight, we went to Aunt Gloria’s house to help her with her garden. I picked up some magnolia clippings and broke out in head-to-toe hives. When I was twelve, we went to the Mother’s Day luncheon at church and the table centerpieces had magnolias. The side of my face swelled up and a deacon and one of the members of the mother’s board told you to take me to the emergency room, which you didn’t, of course.”

“Oh, you were overreacting. You just didn’t want to stay for the luncheon.”

“How does a twelve-year-old make the side of her face swell up on command, Mother?” Isadora asked.

“Hang. Up. The. Phone!” RJ mouthed, leaning toward her.

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