Mom thinks on it before conceding. “Okay, sure.” Beckoning him with her hand, she adds, “After all, Archer is family.”
The man in question scratches the back of his neck. “Uh, I can just wait in here until you guys are done.”
With a death glare on him, I mouth the words “move it or die.”
“It’s fine, Archer, honey. All good news, anyway.”
Good news?
What kind of good news involves a dress and flat ironed hair?
Excessive Coco Chanel?
We walk side by side, Archer behind us, on the way to the dining room. Once there I find an unnecessary tall stack of pancakes, muffins, bacon, sausage, and what I can only assume is scrambled eggs in a round covered platter.
Uh, okay?
Mom directs a hand to the chairs, prompting us to sit.
Archer and I do so reluctantly, the same for mom even though she’s the one suggesting it.
When we’re all settled, she straightens her back and folds her hands on the table.
“So, I have great news.”
“Great news?” I narrow my eyes. “Really?”
“Yes! Why would you think I’m lying?”
“Because you look like you’re about to pass out.”
Mom shifts in the seat. “No passing. Just news.”
“’Kay, hit me with it.”
Mom looks behind me, as if waiting for someone to join us. I turn to follow her line of sight, which is on the front door, then face her again.
“Mom?” I call out after a few more seconds of her staring.
“Yeah?” She meets me again, then shakes her head. “Oops. Sorry. Drifted off it seems.”
“What the heck is up?”
“Well, for starters…you know how much I hate keeping secrets from you, right?”
“Yeah,” I huff. “And how much you love accusing me of keeping them from you.”
A frown appears between her brows.
“Yes, and I’m really sorry about that.”
“I get it. You’re my mom. You worry.”
“More than you know.”
I smile, then, when the growing silence gets awkward, draw out a, “Soooo.”
“Soooo…I’m ashamed to admit I’ve been keeping one from you. A pretty big one.”