she was focused on her career and I respected that. “How does it feel to be God’s favorite? You missed a circus.”
She covered her mouth as she laughed. “I heard.”
“Oh, well. Mrs. and Mr. Vanessa Lawson are happy. I guess that’s all that matters.”
From inside their car, I heard her son chide, “Are we going? I’m hungry.”
“Always hungry,” she replied under her breath. “Tell Judy and David hi for me.” Then she got in her car. Off to feed the poor, starving child.
“Craig left me at the reception,” I contended—as if I could blame him. Although it wasn’t a bad excuse. After all, he could have said goodbye.
“Well, honey, some people don’t want to party all night,” my mother explained as she took a bite of her homemade chicken salad sandwich.
“Exactly. That’s not the kind of energy I’m looking for. Besides, it literally was a party and it lasted until midnight. It’s not like I was doing body shots at four in the morning.” Anymore. College had been fun, and so were many of the nights I’d spent traveling the country with Brenden. But that was neither here nor there.
“Okay. Okay,” my dad interjected in his even-keeled I’ve had enough voice. “She didn’t like him, Judy. She’ll find somebody else.”
I picked up a chip and replied, “Or not.” Then popped it into my mouth.
Yes, I sometimes made things harder for myself. Still, I was twenty-eight and had a lot of experience being on my own, and I didn’t need a man. Sure, it sucked sometimes. That’s life.
“Anyway, are you guys going to Hilton Head?” A perfectly timed change of topics if ever there was one. They wouldn’t be able to resist talking about their favorite place on Earth. The pristine vacation home they had right on the ocean—and predictably right next door to Lauren’s family there too.
Dad bobbed his salt-and-pepper-covered head as he chewed and swallowed. “Next week. Wanna go? Come up for a long weekend?”
Oh, how I missed the sand and the early mornings, watching the sun come up. “I’d love to, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to take off. Maggie is due soon. So work is kinda hectic.”
“How do you like your new job, sweetie? I bet it’s fun working with Maggie again. A bit different from the waitressing you two did back in the day, huh?”
“Yeah. My attitude wasn’t really conducive to tips.”
“It’s a wonder you made any money at all,” my father teased.
“Watch it, Davie,” I warned and shoved my index finger into his shoulder. “I believe I come by it honest, Mr. I-Almost-Didn’t-Walk-In-My-Own-Graduation-Because-Of-A-Senior-Prank.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” He tipped his sweet tea to his lips and shrugged at my mom, who was glaring at him as if it had happened only yesterday.
“Your father almost killed you, David,” my mom reminded him.
“He would have had to catch me first.” Mischief sparked in his green eyes as he winked at me.
“Anyway,” my mother said, shifting the conversation back. “You said Maggie was having a boy. He’s going to have them wrapped around his little finger from day one.”
“Just like Prince Calvin,” I quipped. Mama’s boy.
A sweet smile spread across her face, and she tossed her napkin onto her plate. “Do I need to remind you that your daddy slept beside your crib for the first three weeks after you came home from the hospital?”
She didn’t need to remind anyone of that story. It was her favorite—and one of mine too. Regardless, we knew the next words that were about to come out of her mouth.
In unison, my dad and I squawked, “Only four pounds. One ounce.”
I’d been born a few weeks early and had stayed in the hospital for a week or so before coming home. That’s probably why I couldn’t even reach the top of my refrigerator. Being a preemie had stunted my growth. Or maybe not. But it was a pain in the ass being five foot three and three quarters.
“Oh, shut up. Both of you.”
“Mother, we don’t say shut up in this house.”
She laughed. “Yeah, well, maybe we should have. You smartasses always have some bullshit to say.”
“Judith Millicent Draper Lawson, your language.” I wiped an invisible tear from my eye. “It’s amazing.”
Dad sat back in his chair, rubbing his full pot belly, with a smile that could light the Olympic torch. “I miss this.”
“Don’t you go soft on me now, old man,” I said. One would think my mother was the biggest advocate for my reproductive journey, but one would be wrong. My