His mom is clearly not done. “And then as he got older, I started to believe he’d only ever have his cat.”
Gabriel sighs quite dramatically. “Thanks, Mom. I love the picture you’re painting of me.”
“You’re welcome, dear. Liam, please, take your shoes and coat off and get comfortable.”
It would be like getting comfortable in a viper’s den. The only thing that could give me comfort is my knife in one hand andmy gun in the other, but I really don’t think that’s the level of comfort she was going for.
I am paraded into the dining room where she rushes to put plates on the table.
“What would you like to drink, dear? The chicken should be done in about five minutes.”
It takes me far too long to realize that I am the “dear” in this situation.
“Anything is fine.”
“Want some chocolate milk? Gabriel loves chocolate milk. Let me make some for you,” she says. “Clark, can you set the rest of the table?” And with that, Gabriel and I are alone.
“Your mom is going to woo me with chocolate milk,” I say.
Gabriel laughs. “Would you like a beer or something?”
“Absolutely not. I must drink the milk and keep up the image of a normal human.”
“Stop speaking like you’re an alien.”
“Your mother’s threats are quite sophisticated.”
“Threats? When did she threaten you?”
“Did you not witness the way she wrapped around me like a boa constrictor seeking out its prey? She was testing the density of my bones so she’d know what size of weapon she needed.”
“My god, you’re dramatic. You don’t cry when I hug you,” he says as he wraps me up in his arms.
I immediately feel at ease, nothing like I’d felt when that woman had me in her grasp. “Hmm… you could strangle my body, and I would die happy,” I decide.
“So weird,” Gabriel says affectionately as he pulls off me before remembering the bag I’m holding. “Oh! The cookies. Let’s set those out. Mom, Liam made you cookies. They’re so freaking good. I snuck one when he wasn’t looking, and then I licked the cookie dough bowl clean.”
“You know you’re not supposed to eat dough,” Mabel says.
“Hasn’t killed me yet,” he retorts, as though it’s a challenge.
“This was far too sweet of you, Liam,” she says as she takes the container of cookies and sets it on the table. “They look delicious.”
“Thank you.” See? Look at me being all disgustingly normal. I can do this normal thing just fine. “I also got you both this.”
I hand them the wrapped box and she looks at me in surprise. “Oh! You didn’t have to get us anything!”
“Just a little something,” I say as she happily tears the packaging open and pulls out the blanket.
“This is beautiful! Thank you! Look, hon. Look what Liam got us! Oh! And a dish too? How pretty! Thank you.”
I look over at Gabriel to judge how well I’ve done. He looks relieved, which is a bit ridiculous. What did he think I had in there? The finger of his mom’s nemesis from work? He really should have a little faith in me… but I also see why he doesn’t.
The timer goes off and she sets the items down before rushing to the kitchen, and Clark goes to help her.
“Oh, thank god. I thought for sure it was going to be somethingso muchworse,” Gabriel admits.
“What did you think was in there?”
