That’s not the way I saw it at all.
But before I could contradict her, she was heading inside. I’d have followed her, but a familiar SUV pulled up and my brother stepped out.
I barely contained a snarl as he walked around the hood of his SUV and headed for the passenger door where the girl was.
Holly? Molly? Hell, I didn’t remember her name.
What I did remember was that she was a bitch and didn’t hide it.
I rolled my eyes when she got out of the car with an exaggerated groan. Instead of waiting, I turned my back on them and headed inside where my mother was just putting her first plate of pancakes on the counter.
I caught them up, walked them over to Luce, then went back for the next batch.
“What are y’all doing here?” the girl asked petulantly.
“Telly,” my mother ground out. “This is my home. They’re here because they’re my kids.”
“She’s your ex-daughter-in-law,” Telly corrected.
I snorted, grabbed a stack of pancakes and then waited for my mother to finish the next three before gesturing to her to put them on my plate.
She gave me a look that clearly said she was on to my game and then did as I silently asked.
With a stack of six on my plate, I headed for the table and the spot beside Luce.
Once there, I slathered on so much butter and syrup that it nearly spilled over.
“Do you have any left for us?” Braxton asked, sounding annoyed.
“I didn’t know you were coming over, or I would’ve made you some,” she said. “I have enough for myself and that’s it.”
“I’ll take them,” Telly chirped.
The bitch.
Like hell she would.
“You can have mine, Hilary,” Luce said when she saw Telly reaching for the plate that my mother had made for herself.
“No, you fuckin’ will not,” I growled. “Braxton, get to makin’ some more. You know how to do that. Mom hasn’t eaten yet, and you know how she gets with her blood sugar if she doesn’t.”
Braxton glowered.
But he knew I was right.
Mom had issues with her blood sugar since we were boys.
She had to eat, or shit would hit the fan.
And since we’d all already cut into ours and made them to our liking, we wouldn’t be giving ours up either.
“If Braxton is making more,” Telly said, “then your mom can have some then.”
“She just used the last of her sugar-free syrup on the pancakes,” I said. “And since I highly doubt that you even like sugar-free syrup on your pancakes, then that won’t work.”
Telly frowned as if she was about to argue. But I got up, took the plate from the counter that Telly was practically holding on to, and set it on the table where my mom usually sat. “Sit, Mam.”
My mom sat, smirking at me.
I winked at her, resumed my seat, and then asked, “What are y’all doing here, anyway?”
“We want you to throw us a baby shower,” Telly said. “Braxton said you threw him a really good wedding shower. And I was thinking that was the only way I’d get good stuff, if you invited your friends.”
The woman next to me snorted, and I reached over and pinched the meat of her hip.
She shot me a grin but went back to her food, making a humming sound underneath her breath.
“I don’t have the time to throw you a shower,” Mom said. “I have to start a month-long project this weekend and I won’t be available to do anything. And didn’t you say that your mother was doing one?”
“She is.” She paused. “But my mom doesn’t have friends with money like you do.”
What a little bitch.
Braxton was such a dumbass.
The hand that I had resting on my thigh was suddenly squeezed and I looked over to find Luce staring at me with the widest eyes she could possibly manage.
“Can you believe her?” she mouthed.
I shook my head.
The audacity of the girl was downright hilarious.
“No,” I shook my head as I mouthed back.
She grinned, then went back to her pancakes.
“Gosh, these are really good,” Luce said. “I’ve missed your pancakes, Mam.”
I nearly choked on her words.
Years and years ago, when Braxton and Luce had first gotten married, my mother had insisted that Luce call her “Mom.” Only, since Luce had a really good one, she’d taken a slight affront to it at first. They’d settled on “Mam.” Something that I’d called my mom since high school for some reason.
Well, I knew the reason.
When I was sixteen, I’d met a buddy who was Irish and he called his mom “Mam.” It’d stuck with my own “mam” and now she answered to both.
“Mam?” Telly said. “What the hell does mam mean? It sounds dumb coming out of your mouth.”
There was a moment of silence before Braxton said, “We’ll go.”
“Wait. What? Why?” Telly said as she scrambled toward Braxton. “But we were supposed to see if she could throw me my shower.” She turned to Luce then. “How about you? Do you want to throw us a shower?”