Her phone vibrates once again. She still ignores it. “I don’t care either way,” she assures. “I’m just curious.”
Exhaling hard, I take a sip from my juice before answering. “Yes. It was.”
“And I assume you were safe. Right? Dana?” She blinks twice. “Please?”
“Yes. We were safe,” I say. “Jeez.”
“Being mature enough to do it means being mature enough to talk about it.”
“With your mother?”
“What did I always tell you about sex?” she asks, ignoring the question.
“Be smart. Be safe.”
“As long as you did that, I’ve done my job and I’m happy. I won’t inquire further.”
“Thank you.”
She takes a sip from her mug. “So, Connor.”
I wait for her to add to that. A question. A statement. Anything.
She doesn’t.
“Connor?” I ask.
“Connor.”
“Connor?”
Finally, a smile. “Connor.”
I glare. “Mom.”
“After all these years?—”
“Mom.”
“I’m not asking for details,” she says. “There’s a heavy amount of don’t wanna know attached to this — and it’s not my business, anyway.”
“But?” I say, sensing it coming.
“But I’m happy you two finally saw each other.”
I sigh at my plate. “Apparently, I’m the only blind one here.”
“You couldn’t tell?”
“You could?”
“Fucking duh!”
I tilt back, surprised. “How?” I ask. “When?”
She looks up with a pause, thinking back. “Always,” she says. “He’s just… always looked at you like…”
“Like I’m the most important person in the room?”
