Chapter Sixteen Weston“You get enough to eat, honey?” Mom asks over our thick slices of apple pie.
“God, yes. I’m about to explode.” I lean back with a defeated groan, my chair creaking. “You really pulled out all the stops, Mom. I won’t be hungry for the rest of the weekend.”
Pot roast, glazed carrots, scalloped potatoes, and now dessert . . . I’m so full it almost hurts, but I’m not complaining. Although I am still wondering something.
“So, not that I don’t love seeing you, but was there some reason you were in such a hurry about meeting up?” She’d been calling at least once a day for the past week, asking when was the soonest I could come over for lunch.
“Can’t a mother want to steal a little time with her only child?”
I sigh, but there’s much more affection in it than exasperation
