Right With Me - Stacey Lewis Page 0,37

doing any of that.

"You retired because you wanted to spend more time with mom."

Dad snorts. "No, I retired because she wouldn't stop nagging me to spend time with her. There's a difference."

"Well, either way, you're home now. And, I'm sure whatever it is she wants you to do is stuff that does need to be done, so isn't it better to just get it over with?"

Narrowing his eyes, he glares at me. "Whose side are you on here?"

"Mom's, obviously. She's the one who sends me home with cookies and food so I don't have to make dinner."

He "hmphs" at me, but he knows it's true. That's the reason he's here too. Mom is a damn good cook and if he doesn't do what she wants, she's not going to let him have any of the goodies I'm sure she's in the house making.

Before he can say anything else, Mom comes to the door and looks out at both of us. "What are you guys doing out here? I have lunch ready, Mitch, if you're hungry."

"Of course, I'm hungry," I tell her as I'm walking up the front walk. "When am I not?"

She laughs, and when I reach the door, I wrap my arms around her and hug her. Mom hugs me back just as tightly, then moves so I can walk inside.

"What brings you over today?" She's looking up at me like she already knows why I'm here, but I don't know why she would.

I keep walking through the house because the smell of the food she made is making my stomach growl, but toss back over my shoulder, “Food. I’m here for the food.”

Entering the kitchen, I can see she’s been cooking like she’s expecting an army, something that tells me for sure she knew I was going to come over today. It’s not just sandwiches or something either. Nope, she made country fried steak, mashed potatoes, peas, and biscuits.

My mouth starts to water when I see all the food and I almost drop to my knees and thank God for moms who love to cook and do it every damn day.

She waits until I’ve filled a plate and taken my seat at the table before she sits down across from me and stares. Damn it. The look she’s giving me is the same one she gave when I was seven and broke one of the lamps in the living room. She knew it was me the whole time, no matter how much I swore it wasn’t. It’s the same look she gives me when she knows she can break me easily because it’s the stern type of look all mothers seem to know exactly when to use.

“What?” It comes out defensive and short and I regret it immediately when her look turns into a glare. My mom is the best at making a thirty-eight-year-old man feel like he’s ten again.

My shoulders roll forward, so I’m hunched over my plate and looking anywhere but her when she speaks. “I hear you had a date last night.”

“How did you hear that?” I ask, then grimace. That makes it sound like I was trying to keep it a secret, which isn’t the case. She’s been trying to get me to date people since pretty much the second Tabitha and I split up. I didn’t want to tell her about Hailey because finding out I talked to someone before the split with her happened will only disappoint her.

The look she gives me, her chin dipping down as she looks at me from under her lashes, tells me she thinks I’m an idiot, which is confirmed when she says, “Becky Ellis called me last night and said you were out with her daughter. Imagine my surprise because you haven’t said a word to anyone. Having someone else tell me what my son is up to was so embarrassing, Mitchell James.”

I cringe at her saying both my first and middle names. At least she didn’t throw out all three names though. I’m not in too much trouble. How do I explain this to her without telling her everything? “I’m sorry, Mom. Maybe I should’ve told you, but it was just a first date.” Inspiration comes and I tell her, “I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I knew whether or not it was going to go further than one dinner.”

“You better have done more than take her to dinner.” She smacks my hand since it’s the only part of my body she