bathroom was and excused himself, leaving my mom and me to share a moment of quiet excitement over knowing someone with celebrity ties. She handed me the spoon with instructions to keep stirring the salad, while she cut tomatoes for the burgers.
“He seems okay,” she commented quietly, lifting her gaze to watch for my reaction.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “He is.”
“You like him a lot.” I felt my cheeks burn as I nodded. Then, she added, “He obviously likes you, too.”
“I know,” I said, pinching my lips between my teeth.
Mom came to stand closer beside me, bringing the knife and cutting board of tomatoes with her. “But?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“It’s nothing. I just … I don’t know. I just wish they’d lighten up a little.”
“Who?” I gestured toward the back of the house. Mom nodded immediately, knowing exactly who I was referring to. “Well, you can’t really blame your sisters for being a little worried.”
“About what, though?”
Mom sighed, shame touching her cheeks with a hint of pink. “Andrea, they showed me that picture.”
I released the spoon, letting it hit the side of the plastic bowl. “Oh, great. That’s wonderful.”
“They’re just looking out for you, you know that.”
“Yeah, I get it, but you can’t hold an old picture against someone for the rest of their life, Mom. People change. I mean, you’re really gonna tell me he seems like a freakin’ drug addict to you?”
She let go of the knife and rubbed her fingertips against her forehead. “No, he doesn’t. But, honey, people relapse. They—”
“You’re forgetting what I do for a living, Mom. I know,” I snapped heatedly. “I see that shit regularly. You don’t have to tell me.”
Mom’s eyes clouded with sympathy as she reached out to rest her hand on my arm. “I’m not attacking him. I said I like him. I’m just explaining how I can see why your sisters might be a little more hesitant to trust him, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with being aware.”
Sense and clarity washed away my initial defensive reaction, and I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I just wish they’d stop giving him nasty looks. Like, they can watch out for me without being completely judgmental.”
“That, I can agree with,” Mom said, picking up the knife and resuming her chopping.
Moments later, Vinnie entered the kitchen and demanded to know what he could do to help. Mom gestured toward the vegetables on the island and asked if he could manage a garden salad. He scoffed and pretended to roll up his invisible sleeves.
“Can I manage a salad,” he snickered, shaking his head. “Mrs. Bennett, I have been chopping and peeling since before I could spell my own name.”
He then made himself at home, reaching for another cutting board and a knife from the counter. I resumed stirring the salad, periodically glancing over my shoulder at him, just to watch him work. He was quick with a knife, and took the job seriously, slicing cucumbers and carrots with meticulous care. I loved seeing him there, in his sleeveless shirt and with all his tattoos, adding a badass contrast to my parents’ clean, country kitchen. I caught myself thinking, as I watched him work, that’s my boyfriend, and I could feel my cheeks set aflame with butterflies and emotion.
To my surprise, Jamie wandered in at one point, to inspect the new guy in my life. She stood beside him and looked up with wondrous intrigue. I wanted to ask him if he could feel her there, and if he had any clue that there was someone else in the room. But then, I remembered, he still had no idea about the things I could do, so I kept my mouth shut, feeling more than a little sad that I held so much shame in something I couldn’t help.
When we had finished our work and the food was ready to be served, Mom carried the salad outside, leaving us alone to clean up and wash our hands. Vinnie glanced at me to offer a small, adoring smile and said, “I like your mom. She’s cool.”
“Yeah, she’s okay.”
“She’s a lot cooler than most moms would be, if they knew the shit I’ve done.”
“She doesn’t—”
“Andy, I heard you’s talkin’ in here.”
Embarrassment curled around my neck, heating my skin. “What? How?”
He laughed. “The bathroom’s right around the corner and, sweetheart, I ain’t deaf.”
I pressed my lips together and took a deep breath, releasing the guilt on my exhale. “I’m sorry.”