She looks up at Hamish. “Bitsy and her friends are heading to FARM. What do you think? Should we join them and leave these two to fend for themselves?”
I look at Mom, stunned. I had no idea she’d be so quick to jump in here. Is that a good idea? Her health seems fine, but the whole point was to make sure she did okay during this transition. I’m trying to formulate a thought when the conversation continues without me.
“I think that’s a fantastic idea.” Hamish looks at Clay. “FARM isn’t too far from here, and La Bonita is still in business.”
Clay perks up. “Really? Okay, I guess we’ll see you all back here.”
I’m speechless. Everything is happening so quickly. Mom is just deserting me?
Clay turns to me. “In my opinion, one thing San Francisco really lacks is good Mexican food. La Bonita is a hole in the wall with the best homemade salsa. Does that sound good to you?”
If the doctor is going along with this, I guess I should too. “How are their margaritas?”
“Excellent. Isn’t that a requirement of a good Mexican restaurant?”
I’m sold. “Sounds good,” I tell him with a nod.
“We can walk.”
Mom is standing now and ready to head out. Hamish slaps his knees. “You have fun.”
Clay gives his dad a look.
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Hamish promises.
“And so will I,” Mom pipes up.
They practically run out the door.
“Why do I feel like the parent and they’re the teenagers?” Clay asks as they disappear.
“I know!” I agree. “But honestly, I’ve not seen my mom like this since before my dad died, so I’m happy.”
“There’s a fantastic Italian place, some decent sushi, despite being in the desert, or we could always show up and sit on the other side of the restaurant they’re going to and make them uncomfortable.”
I laugh. “No, you sold me on Mexican food and margaritas.”
“Great, let’s go!” Clay practically drags me out the door.
“Wait, I don’t have my purse.”
“Do you think they’re going to card you?”
I laugh. “Hardly. But I should bring some money, just in case.”
“I have money and my phone. This is my treat.”
“You’ve paid for everything since we left.”
He shakes his head. “What’s wrong with that? I can afford it.”
“I’m sure you can, but you’re doing me the favor by coming. So I should be treating.”
He scoffs. “If I was back in San Francisco, I’d be wearing a sweater and watchingSportsCenter,drinking a beer alone after a day of work at Clear Security. This is a lot more fun.”
He squeezes my hand, and my heart beats triple time. “I agree.”
After a short walk to the restaurant, we sit down and order our meals. I go with the three kinds of enchiladas, and Clay gets some combo platter that comes with so many plates it takes up most of our table.