“I came as soon as possible,” Mom says, stopping mid-step with a large soup container. She eyes Thalia and me wrapped in a blanket, her head resting on my chest, hair tickling my chin. “How’s yourfriendfeeling?”
“Hey to you too, Mom.” I readjust Thalia, careful not to wake her as I untangle myself from her limbs. “I got her fever down.” I kiss Mom’s cheek, joining her in the kitchen. “Not as low as I’d like it to be, though.”
“I made chicken soup.” She smiles, pulling a pot out of the cupboard.
It was the cure for all evil when I was growing up. Runny nose?Chicken soup.Fever?Chicken soup.Scraped knee? Band-Aidsandchickensoup. She even made me chicken soup when Shawn broke my nose.
“Why do I have to call your brothers to find out who this mysterious friend of yours is?” she asks, pouring water into the kettle, probably to make Thalia a cup of tea with honey and lemon. “I hear she’s lovely.”
Lovely? I’m sure that was Shawn’s description. Logan would’ve saidshe’s cool, and Nico probably didn’t even answer his fucking phone.
Mom taps her foot on the tiles, eyes on me, two lines marking her forehead. “Will youpleasetell me a bit about her, or do I have to beat the confession out of you?”
As if she could take me on in five-inch heels and a light, silk pencil dress.
“What do you want me to say? She’s a friend.”
“A friend who lives with you.”
That’s Logan’s inability to keep shit to himself. It’s not like Thalia living here is a secret, but maybe I should’ve been the one to inform Mom about my roommate.
“Yeah, she needed a place to stay. I have a spare bedroom and a dog who can’t live without her.” I point to the couch where Ares is curled around Thalia’s feet.
Mom prods and pokes, firing question after question for solid ten minutes before Thalia sits up, saving the day.
“Good morning,” she says, blushing slightly, sleepy eyes on my mother. “I’m Thalia.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Mom crosses the room but keeps a safe distance not to catch whatever made Thalia ill. Too bad she didn’t think to stay away from me. I’m covered in germs too. “I’m Monica, Theo’s mom. He said you’re not well, so I made chicken soup. It always helped my boys when they were under the weather.”
I serve the soup and finish making the tea because Mom ditched the task halfway through. She’s always been easily distracted, and right now, her cheeks are pink, excitement in her hazel eyes as she discreetly—in her opinion—interrogates Thalia, asking about work, life, and...
“So, how did you two meet?”
Kill me.
Kill me now.
I send my brothers a message.
Me: What did you tell Mom?
Logan: Nada.
Shawn: Nothing.
Nico: To call and ask you.
Me: Yeah, right. She’s here. Brought soup for Thalia and acts like she’s about to book the church.
Shawn: Yeah... good luck, bro.
Nico: I’m out.
Logan: Ha-ha-ha.
So helpful, those three. So good with words. What the fuck would I do without them?
“You should feel better soon,” Mom assures when Thalia polishes off the last of the soup and thanks her for the eighth time. “You need to rest. My boys say you work all the time.”