Page 18 of Always Been Yours

“Well? How was it?” She takes a sip of her sangria before giving me a stern look over the rim. “Did you go to the stores I told you about? There were a lot of great sales this weekend. I hope you didn’t spend too much money. Oh, andpleasetell me that you didn’t go with purple again.“ Arielle’s favorite color.

That earns my mom a stern look from me.Not in front of the girls, I silently reprimand. Her eyes glance between Stella and Daisy before she gives a guilty nod.

The entire table is looking at me now and I fidget with my silverware under the attention. It’s very unnerving to have the full attention of all the Davies siblings. Lexi is a solid replacement for Hudson at this moment, definitely more menacing.

There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I know that. We bought some couches and new bedroom stuff. Nothing that needs to remain a secret but there is something emasculating about having your mother still treat you like a kid. And that’s coming from the man who has bi-weekly tea parties in costume jewelry and tiaras.

My youngest daughter doesn’t have any of the same worries, bless her innocent heart.

“It was so fun!” She gets on her knees to sit even higher on her chair. “We got so much!”

“Did you pick it out yourself?” Vivi asks in a sweet voice.

“For my room, yeah I did. Stella picked her room and Daddy picked his.”

“What did you choose?”

Daisy perks up more, slightly puffing her chest out in pride. “Pink sheets and a forest print blanket.” I smile, sliding her plate toward her. The light pink sheets are a pretty contrast to the white duvet cover that has a dainty forest design on it, a mix of plants and animals. I guided her choices with everything else—a bamboo bed frame, mustard yellow curtains and a soft green throw blanket that matches her painted walls perfectly. “You should come see it sometime,” she shrugs casually, not realizing that she just dropped a bomb of awkwardness at the table.

When I look up, Vivi is smirking at me but quickly looksdown at Daisy. “It sounds like the perfect room.” She leans forward, pushing her ample cleavage up enough to make it almost indecent, even in a shirt as modest as hers. I do my best not to look… but her breasts are hard to miss especially when she’s wearing a dark shade of green that makes her loose copper hair glow. “What about you, Stell? How did you decorate your room?”

If Stella is surprised by the use of her nickname, she doesn’t show it. It throws me off for a few seconds—though, I don’t know if I appreciate the gesture or should be worried about a mutiny forming against me.

Instead of shining in the attention like her sister, Stella sinks down in her chair a little, but her voice is steady when she says, “I just picked a pink blanket and white sheets. It matches the white flowers on my walls. Daisy and I have the same curtains though.” She shrugs, as if her pink haven isn’t just as precious. Daisy likes to change things more often than Stella, so she wasn’t allowed to pick wallpaper yet. Stella picked a pink background with large white cartoon-style daisies. It’s simple and adorable, just like her.

“That sounds cute and cozy,” Vivi says with a wink.

I turn to my mom, feeling less nervous with Vivi’s attention somewhere else. I tell her about the dark blue couches we bought because the girls wanted something colorful, and I wanted something that wouldn’t stain. She asks me to describe everything else we bought down to the curtain rods we chose. “I just want to make sure the girls have ahome, Grady,“ she reminds me.

“Thanks, Mom.” But there’s no bite behind my words.

She truthfully isn’t a controlling person, but I know that she’s just looking to be a part of as many aspects of our life since we’re close enough for her to be. And I don’t want to block her out anymore.

I have all the patience in the world for the sweet woman until sheasks, “And your bedroom? How did you decorate that?”

It’s an innocent question but the fiery woman sitting across from me makes me feel like I’m answering something intimate.

Not that it matters, butwhat ifshe doesn’t like it?

She will never see the inside of my room, that’s not what I’m insinuating at all. I’m not delusional. But I don’t want her to have more negative opinions about me.

I clear my throat. “Mom, I’m sure that no one wants to hear how I decorated my house.”

Lexi chimes in with, “Oh, I’m absolutely invested in this conversation.” She places her head on her fist, and Calypso follows with a cheeky smirk. Silently Lexi adds, “Daddy,” with a wink, causing Asher to choke on his bite. Vivi slaps him on the back, continuing to pretend like she isn’t paying attention to this conversation, but she’s biting her lip, hard, to fight a laugh.

I keep my attention on my mom. “You can come see it next weekend. Maybe even come with us to look at kitchen stuff.”

“Yeah, Gramma! Come shopping with us!” Daisy begs.

“Of course,mi amor,“ she smiles toward my daughter before her stern eyes turn back to me. “But I want to know. So go on.”

I know my mother means well but she isn’t dumb. I just don’t know what she’s trying to prove. There is no point in fighting with her though. She always gets her way. Ask my dad if you don’t believe me.

I huff out an annoyed breath. “As you know,” I start, trying to appease the maternal monster, “I decided I may as well get a new bed.” She nods, thankfully not bringing up the conversation we had a few weeks ago. She agreed that I shouldn’t keep anything that Arielle and I shared, you know, for the comfort of my future partner. ‘Whoever that may be’she said in a casual tone, but she was smiling throughevery word.

I tell the table, keeping my eyes on my mom, about the walnut mid-century modern bedframe with a matching leather cushion back. The olive-green duvet that matches the light gray sheets. The Turkish rug brings in some color and contrasts the black walls nicely.

Lexi and Calypso are grinning like fiends behind their glasses of sangria. Asher is giving me his idea of a subtle thumbs up. When I make eye contact with Vivi, there is a faint blush on her cheeks, but she turns back to my daughters. She’s giving them tips on how to run a successful classroom of stuffed animals—as if their father isn’t also a teacher.

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