You’ve got to be kidding me.My mom got me a date. That’s why she wasn’t upset when I didn’t bring a man. That sneaky little woman.
“Maddie, this is Xavier,” Mom practically coos as she grabs his arm and rubs his bicep. “He’s from Puerto Rico. He makes good grandchildren.”
The color drains from Xavier’s face, and he gapes at me.
“Mom!”
Dad snorts. “Glad we’ve got that out of the way. Can we get the game back on now?”
Mom curses him in Portuguese then flicks on the TV again. Dad waves to Xavier to join us. As much as I’d love to sit on the couch with the future father of my children, I follow my mother into the kitchen instead.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. The TV is back on, but for all I know, Xavier might have super hearing along with his other desirable genes.
“His mom lives next door, and I meet him a few times. When you didn’t bring a boyfriend, I called to see if he was there. I knew you’d love him. Do you love him?” Her earnestness is so innocent I can’t bear to break her heart with the truth of how insane this is.
“He seems fine, but Mom, I’m not looking to date right now.”
She frowns. “Why not?”
I sigh and toss my hair out of my way as I help her finish up. “My primary focus is getting my job back.”
“You do both!” my mom says cheerfully. “Get your job and romance life back. Xavier works at the courthouse!”
Knowing how little research my mother does on careers, I hesitate to take her word for it. “Doing what?”
She waves a hand in front of my face. “Don’t ask me, ask him.”
I peek into the living room right as the final score is shown. Dang it. They lost. If I had been sitting by Dad, our luck would have been enough to carry them through.
“Dinner is ready,” Mom announces, somehow knowing the game is over without ever paying attention.
Xavier trails behind my dad, his footsteps significantly more hesitant entering the kitchen than when he first walked into the house. I certainly can’t blame him. My mother’s remarks were uncalled for. Yet somehow, I feel as though I should have predicted them.
My best course of action is to play nice, assure him he will not need to make any grandbabies then send him on his way.
Dad’s already in his usual chair, but Xavier hangs back in the doorway.
“You can sit there,” I tell him.
He ducks his chin and shuffles his feet. “Thanks. Sorry, I have to admit, I was taken a little off guard.” He swallows, glancing behind me to ensure my mom is still out of hearing range. “You know, earlier.”
You and me both, buddy.“I’m sorry about my mom, but she really is harmless, I promise.”
He takes a breath and seems to relax into a half smile. “So you—”
“Say cheese.”
A camera light flashes in my peripheral and I whirl around to search for the culprit. Mom. Who else would it be? She snaps another picture then taps on her phone screen. “I show this at the wedding.”
The audacity of this woman.
Xavier coughs and scoots away from me. My cheeks burn and I scurry to the other side of the table and plop down, praying this night ends soon.
Ten minutes later, I’ve run out of food to stuff into my mouth—so has Xavier—and my mom has thankfully, run out of embarrassing childhood stories to share with the table.
“Maddie,” Mom says, giving me a pointed look, “didn’t you want to ask Xavier something?”
I take a drink of water then clear my throat. “So, Xavier, what do you do?”
