Surge

My mom, if it had been allowed, probably would have spanked me with a wooden spoon back in the day if I’d come back late without telling her where I was.

I took a bite of the eggs she’d made. They were delicious.

Wait. Was she luring me into a false sense of security with ginger-spiced eggs only to sneak up on me and bombard me with an inescapable word-lashing?

“Sooooo…” She drew out the O.

Fuck. Here it came.

She rinsed the pan. “How’s Drake?”

Should I continue with this conversation like we were two best girlfriends just chatting about last night? Part of me wanted to, and let it smooth over, and part of me wondered if she fished. How did she know I’d been with Drake?

“Cat got your tongue?” my mom continued. “I’m just going to get it out there. When you didn’t come home, I used location services to see you were at his apartment. I don’t like keeping tabs on you, but a mama can’t sleep otherwise.”

I would have been mortified in previous times but was actually relieved. Modern technology had allowed me to forgive myself and throw away the guilt.

“Yes. No hiding it, I guess. It was… well, we’re back together.”

“Apparently.” She lifted an eyebrow.

I took another bite of eggs, trying to eat quickly. I wasn’t about to answer any questions I wasn’t asked. And if I hurried, she wouldn’t have time for many.

I should have known Dixie would make the time. My mom dried her hands and pulled up a stool next to me. “I was wrong, Maeve. I shouldn’t have interfered with your relationship. I shouldn’t have placed the blame on Drake.”

“To be honest, Mom, I don’t need to hear that as much as he does.”

She raised her hand and let it fall, slapping her thigh. “Oh Lord. You know I’m not much good at apologizing to men. It’ll eventually pass. Invite him over for dinner one night, and I’ll cook him up a beg-pardon.”

I shook my head and smiled to myself. Whenever my mom and dad had fought, she’d cooked him an apple pie rather than say sorry.

“Mom. It’s not that nice to sweep it under the rug.” Maybe I was pressing my luck. I doubted Drake would care that much as long as things were fixed. But that wasn’t how I did things. Integrity was a big deal.

“I’m not sweeping it under the rug. I’m sweeping it under a pile of grits.”

“Okay.” I lifted my brow this time.

“We’ll see, Maeve. We’ll see.”

I pointed my fork at the eggs. “This is really, really good.”

“I know. That’s the dried fennel in there. Of all things…”

I put my fork down and looked my mom square in the eyes. I was happy she was okay with this but I wanted her to be more than okay. I wanted her blessing.

“I need to tell you that…” I took a deep breath, “…Drake is here to stay. He’s not going anywhere and, with just me, you, and Tyran, I want it to be better than okay. I want this to be better than a plate of grits. I want this to be apple pie good.”

She placed her hand on my arm. “You love him? You really, really love him, don’t you?”

I nodded. “I want your blessing.”

“Well, call me old-fashioned, but usually the man asks for a blessing.”

“When he does, because he will, when he does, what are you going to say?”

All of a sudden, my mom burst out in laughter. The beautiful, loud, bellowing laugh of the old days that traveled the length of our house and back again. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “My goodness, girl. Have I taught you nothing about men? You gotta make them sweat a little. If I tell you the outcome, if he knows the outcome, he won’t be scared to ask. Only men willing to face that fear are worth your time.”

Dixie “Sugar Bugs” Lewis was anything but sweet. It was in moments like these I realized why I was such a tough nut to crack. She’d ingrained in me that playing hard to get was part of survival of the fittest. If you wanted a good man, you had to know he had superior genes and was capable of fighting his way to your heart.