“Tatum’s coming, too, and King probably won’t be home so add that into your calculations. I’ll text you the ingredients I already have at home so you don’t double up.”
I frown. “What ingredients?” She doesn’t even know what we’re making. How would she already have stuff?
“I googled vegan food when you told me you were moving back.” She shrugs. “I picked up some ingredients for the pantry that I saw were common in all the recipes.”
My mother is too much. Only she would fill her pantry with stuff she’ll probably never use. “You missed me a lot, huh?” I’m only teasing; I know she missed me. She texted and called me enough every day for the past four years for me to know this.
Her eyes turn serious. “If you ever move away again, I will hunt you down, Zara King. And that’s a promise.”
I find Mum in her bedroom when I arrive at her place on Saturday afternoon. After painting with Holly all morning, I escaped the paint fumes just after lunch, picked up the ingredients needed for dinner, and then came here where I found Mum sitting on the floor of her room surrounded by a mountain of clothes.
“Are you having a clean-out?”
She blows a strand of hair off her face. “Yes. King declared my wardrobe too fucking full this morning. He was on the warpath, ranting all over the place about all the damn clutter in the house. He had a go at me about my shopaholic ways.”
I sit cross-legged on the bed. “Really? With everything he’s got going on, he’s worried about some clothes?”
“He’s stressed and was in a mood before leaving this morning. When he couldn’t find something in the wardrobe, he lost his shit.”
“Ah, okay.”
“He went too far, though,” she says, her face revealing she’s pissy with him still. “I am not a shopaholic.”
Laughing—because here I was thinking she was going to say he went too far with his cranky-pants ways when really she’s just annoyed he called her a shopaholic—I say, “He’s kinda right. You’ve got a slight addiction to online shopping.”
Gran joins us, her long boho skirt flowing behind her as she glides in. “Lily, darling, I hate to break it to you, but you have become a shopaholic. King is right.”
Mum scowls at her. “Enough of that ‘King is right’ rubbish. It’s not helpful today.”
“Where are the kids?” I ask, noting the silence in the house.
“Brynn took them out. They’re having a day with their aunt and uncle.”
“Jamie’s home?” Mum’s sister’s husband travels a lot with his work. He owns a chain of adult shops and is about to expand his business into America. The last I knew, he was in Los Angeles.
“Yes. He suggested they have them for the night, and I was going to call Brynn to say yes, but now I’m not so sure.”
“You’re that pissed off with King you don’t want time alone with him after we all leave?” I ask.
She grabs the half-full rubbish bag off the bed and loads more clothes into it. “I am.”
“Darling,” Gran says, “tell Brynn to have the kids. You and King need a night alone.”
Mum finishes filling the bag and groans. “Ugh, he’s so stressed lately and moody—”
I cut her off. “He’s always moody, Mum.”
“He’s worse at the moment. I’m about ready to force him onto the couch at night.”
“Umm, I didn’t think King ever slept on the couch. Not even when you tried to make him,” I say.
King’s voice booms from the hallway. “I don’t.” His gaze meets Mum’s. “What’s going on in here?”
Mum straightens as she makes a face at him. “I’m decluttering. By the time you get home tonight, there may not be anything left in this house.”
His nostrils flare. “By the time I get home tonight, you better be in the bath and ready for me.”
I’m used to King’s ways, but the energy between them feels tense. Usually Mum just ignores his bossiness if she doesn’t want anything to do with it, but she’s not today.