She heads on inside, and I answer as I walk away from the door. It's nearing the time when the early dinner rush is going to hit.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Darling, how are you?” my mom practically coos.
“Who are you, and what have you done to my mom?” I ask with a laugh.
“And I not allowed to be happy?”
“Oh, you can definitely be happy. Believe me. I want you to be happy.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
I hesitate. “I just wish you weren’t so far away. That’s all.”
“I know. I love you so much, though.” She giggles, sounding like a silly schoolgirl.
“Mom, can you at least tell me the guy’s name? I assume you’re still going strong with him?”
“Yes. I love him. I really do. I never knew love could feel like this before.”
“Uh huh. Good.” I force a smile even though she can’t see me. It’s more or less an attempt to try to keep my tone more hopeful than flat.
Because here’s the thing. I know that I can’t see her face so I can’t read her body language, but just going by her words and tone makes me think that she’s so overly giddy because of lust and not love.
Love, true love, isn’t that puppy dog shit I have a feeling she’s experiencing. It’s more than that, deeper. It’s when you would give up anything for that other person, do anything for them… You would die for them. It’s not about the butterflies in the stomach and heart racing.
I'm the daughter. I'm a teenager. I shouldn't know more about love than my mom.
Then again, she had been married to my father, and he turned out to be absolutely terrible. I can’t blame her for wanting to experience love, but I don’t want her to get hurt, and I don’t want her to be taken advantage of.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Why do you need his name?” my mom counters. “You want to Google him, don’t you? You don’t trust my judgment.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” I say slowly.
“So you don’t trust him even though you hired him to…” She clams up, but she’s too late.
“Declan?” I screech loud enough for customers leaving the diner to look over curiously at me. I turn my back to them and try to lower my voice. “Declan Fergus? You fell in love with him?”
“Yes,” my mom says simply, as if that’s the best thing in the world.
I grimace and rub my forehead. “I don’t know,” I mutter.
“You don’t know what?” my mom asks, her tone a little bit snippy.
“I just don’t think it’s a good idea at all. I mean, he’s supposed to be your bodyguard. How can he guard you if he’s distracted by the lovey-dovey eyes you’re making?”
“You’re mocking me,” she protests.
"Or he's using you and me," I shoot back. "He didn't tell me anything about falling in love with you. That's a conflict of interest. He can't be your bodyguard anymore. I need to hire someone else, but what do you want to bet that he won't give me a refund for the time that he's been distracted? I'm paying him—"
“I’m sure I can talk to him about the money, but, honey, you don’t need to worry about getting me a bodyguard. I still have Declan.”
“Do you?” I demand. “What if you talk to him about money, and he decides to cut ties? What if he breaks up with you or you break up with him? You still need to be looked over and protected!”
“This is exactly why I didn’t want you to know that it was Declan I love,” she says. “You’re ruining everything, Katie. Just like you ruin everything.”