Page 50 of My Fearless Fake Fling

Fourteen:

Back on my dad’s floor, I walked into the room in time to see my mom throw her head back and laugh. That man had magic in his blood. I knew it had been the right choice to have him stay, and I’m so glad he agreed with me. I’d never have gotten her to laugh.

“Hey there,” I said.

Both heads turned to look at me. “A mud slip-n-slide, sweetheart?” My mom asked, what I believed to be rhetorically, so I didn’t answer.

Instead I shotwhat-the-heck-did-you-say-to-hereyes to my soon-to-be-ex boyfriend if he didn’t give the answer I wanted.

“What?” he asked. “She wanted to know how we met. Then she wanted to know how we’d gotten together. Was I supposed to lie?”

“Yes. You were supposed to tell her we met at a church social or at a homeless shelter or volunteering at a no-kill animal shelter.”

“Like I’d believe you went to church socials?” my mom quipped.

“You’re only supposed to believe good things about me—like I was kissed by angels or fairies fly out of my butt… I don’t know.”

“Fairies?” Mom laughed again. “That would probably hurt.”

“No wonder my brother—” Len started to say, but then stopped himself.

“Your brother?” Mom asked.

He shook his head. “He used to say, ‘Look at how a girl interacts with her family to know if you need to stick around.’”

“And do you need to stick around?” she asked then.

“Foods getting cold.” I cut in before he had the chance to answer, holding up the tray.

He smirked but stood and grabbed the soup to hand to my mom. We spread the rest of the cartons on the small table. Mom’s eyes got huge when she spied my noodles.

“Is that Lo Mein?” she asked, like she couldn’t tell.

“Yup,” I answered and made a big show of sticking my chopsticks in the container to pull out what turned out to be a mouthful of delicious, saucy delightfulness. I slurped the noodles, flicking sauce all over my lips and cheeks. “Mmm…” I finished dramatically.

Mom looked between her soup and my Lo Mein several times. I was going to have to force-feed her when I’d left and now she wanted my food? My meal enjoyment just cut itself by half.

“Huh.” She sighed. “You give birth to children and raise them the best you can. Give up everything for their comfort… This one”—she pointed to me—“I was in labor with her for thirty-nine hours before they finally had to cut me open for a C-section.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. “Here, Mom.” I handed her over the container of noodles.

“No, I couldn’t.” Oh, she said she couldn’t as she snatched the carton from my hand and dug in with her own set of chopsticks that I’d brought her in case she wanted to try the fried pork wontons.

The wonton soup tasted delicious, but I wanted what I’d ordered.

To my utter surprise, Len reached over and grabbed the soup from my hands. “Share with me?” he asked.

My mouth dropped open as I stared at him for a beat.

“What?” he asked. “It smells good. We share, we get the best of both.”

“Best of both,” I repeated dumbly, then snapped my mouth closed and picked up a rangoon.

Eventually, well after we’d finished eating, we got word that Dad was out of surgery and they’d moved him to recovery. He’d done well and everything looked good.

Dad acted pretty groggy when they finally wheeled him back into the room. He looked at Len and said, “Do I know you?”

That’s when Mom stepped in and said, “That’s Len, honey. You met him earlier.”

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