When my eyes come back to my mom, she says, “You’re so much like him. Not just in looks, but in personality and character traits.”
I nod, not because I know this for a fact. I don’t remember a great deal about my dad, but merely because my mom has told me that so many times over the years, I believe it. “Brooke’s a lot like you…isn’t the type of woman who would care about the size of a diamond or whether or not it had a cloud in it. In fact, I’m not sure she really would care if she got a diamond or not. I think the ring more than anything is the type of symbolism she would gravitate to.”
A corner of my mom’s mouth quirks up in amusement.
“What?” I ask her.
“Do you realize how well you actually must know this woman to make an observation like that?”
I shrug. “I could be wrong about her.”
“We’ll see,” she says vaguely. She then folds her hands and places them on the table. “Besides, using this ring is going to save you money. I hated the thought of you spending money on a ring.”
“It wasn’t about the money for me.” I close the box, lift my hips slightly to reach my front jeans pocket, and stow it away. “This whole situation is all kinds of fucked up—pardon my language—that we even perpetrated this farce in the first place. The fact that we’re continuing it shows you just how moronic your son can be. If I had to buy a ring, so be it. I could have returned it.”
“Well, now you don’t have to worry about that.”
“I suppose,” I say, letting the words hang in the air.
“What?” she pushes at me, encouraging me to finish my thoughts. To never hide something from her, because she won’t judge but only try to help.
“It’s just…I feel like I might be marring or tainting the actual day that I would ask a woman to marry me.”
My mom reaches her hand across to pat mine sympathetically. “Honey…Yes, you’re pretty stupid to have done this. But it is absolutely too late to moan about it. Your intentions were solid…The both of you. Brooke started this whole thing because she was trying to protect you and her father. You’re keeping this going because you’re trying to do the same for them. I would say you are stuck in the middle of this because both of you are good people. If you have to see this through to keep everyone’s feelings from being bruised, then at least do it with your head held high. Because your hearts are in the right place—a very, very good place—there’s no way this could ever taint any true proposal down the road.”
I blink at my mom in surprise. I know she supports me in anything I do. But she actually just legitimately validated my stupidity in a way that doesn’t make me feel quite as…stupid. She made it about the type of people Brooke and I are at our core, and it’s about the nicest thing she could have ever said to me about this.
“Besides,” my mom adds mischievously. “Who knows? This would be a great story to tell your kids one day.”
I actually jolt in my seat and look at her with astonishment. “Why would you even say that?”
Why would she even think to imply that Brooke and I would get married and have kids one day?
She lifts her shoulder casually, but her green eyes sparkle with wickedness. “Because I might be the only one who really sees what’s going on here.”
“What do you see that’s going on?” I ask her urgently, as if she’s bent over a crystal ball and about to lay my future out. She doesn’t answer me, though, as something catches her attention.
She smiles and I turn to look over my shoulder. There’s Brooke walking toward both of us like a vision, stylishly dressed with those fucking glasses that I most definitely made her wear last night while I fucked her with her legs over my shoulders.
Brooke gives me a slight smile but then turns her gaze to my mom. We both stand and my mom walks around her chair, holding her arms out to Brooke. I’d expect no different.
Brooke hugs my mother tightly, and I see a world of relief in her eyes. Thankful my mom is so cool about all of this. “Hi, Marianne. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Last night, Brooke had asked me before we fell asleep how she should address my mom. Her first name or Mrs. Scott. She was actually fretting about it and I was charmed. I assured her my mom was a first-name type of woman.
When they pull apart, my mom takes Brooke by the shoulders and lets her eyes roam all over her face. “Oh my…Bishop said you were beautiful, but I had no clue my son could land someone as gorgeous as you.”