I hated him even more for that. I stood and went to Ma, wrapping her in a sympathetic hug. “That’s my mama you’re talking about, and I happen to think she’s beautiful.”
“You’re a good boy,” she patted my face with a gentle smile, discreetly wiping a wayward tear.
“If you’re really interested in getting out there, I’m sure Sophie and the girls would love to find you a man.” I playfully shuddered at the thought, because no one wanted to think about their parents dating. Ever. But I’d do anything to make Ma forget my joke of a father. “Maybe then you’ll get off my case.”
And just like that her wooden spoon connected with my backside. “You little stinker! Get back to those potatoes.”
“I’m serious about Sophie helping you find a date, Ma. In fact, it’ll also help her, she wants to help people of all ages find love. Her words, not mine.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said in that tone that said she’d already thought about it and decided against it. Which meant I’d have to interfere. For her sake.
While the roast baked in the oven, we sat and talked, the way we’d done my whole life. The only thing missing was Sophie, and I wondered if Ma, and the others, were right. Would I be better served by just moving on from my feelings for Sophie since it was clear her feelings would never change?
Then I thought of Babs’ offer to make her jealous. “Do you think dating another woman would make Sophie jealous?” When her brows dipped in confusion, I explained about Babs. “No one would get hurt.” Except maybe me, when it became glaringly obvious she only wanted my friendship. Not my heart. “What do you think?”
“I think that’s playing with fire, and that you risk getting burned for life and losing Sophie forever.” Ma stood with a sigh and went to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of beer instead of more tea, which meant I wouldn’t like her advice. “But I also think that maybe someone ought to light a fire under Sophie’s pretty little behind so she can see what she’s giving up when you finally do move on.”
“So, you think there’s hope?” She was my mother, what the hell else was she gonna say? Still, I slid to the edge of my seat, eager to hear what she had to say. Any wisdom or advice that could help, would be appreciated.
“I think Sophie isn’t thinking about love, which means she’s not rejecting you so much as all the strings that come from loving another person. Her family did a number on her Stone. So much so that she might never realize what she’s missing. You just have to decide how long you’re willing to wait for her.”
The answer, forever, came quickly, but my heart lurched. Was I really willing to give up on the idea of a family for a woman who seemingly didn’t want those kinds of ties in her life? I didn’t know. But it was something else to think about before I did anything stupid. Or regrettable.
“Do you think she’ll ever be ready, or do you think I’m wasting my time? Be honest Ma.”
Ma flashed a ghost of a smile and shrugged, and I knew that was the closest thing to an answer I would get from her. “Take the leap or don’t boy, but don’t analyze it to death.”Sophie“Where’s Olive?” I’d arrived late at The Mayflower and it was just Eva and Mara sitting around with a pitcher of margaritas already waiting.
“She said she’s not feeling well, but I think the hoagie she devoured at lunch and the fried rice for second lunch upset her stomach.” Eva rolled her eyes, but the smile she couldn’t try to hide said she was more amused than anything. “Bought the first pitcher though, so cheers to Olive!” Eva kept her gaze on me while Mara filled my glass. “Why were you so late? Or who kept you?”
I rolled my eyes at her persistence. “Work. Magnus called. Again.” The man really wanted to find a match, which should be comforting in my line of work, but there was something about him that rubbed me the wrong way. “I think we need to accelerate the mixer idea for him.”
Mara snorted and shook her head. “A man eager to settle down with one woman? Does he have a giant horn coming out of his forehead because he sounds like a unicorn to me.”
Eva turned and looked at Mara who was usually quiet and cool as a cucumber. “Cynical much?”
Mara shrugged. “Nope. Not much. I’d say it’s the appropriate amount of cynicism. There’s an open pool table, who’s in?”
“I am,” I said and stood immediately, still taking my first sip of strawberry margarita. Playing pool would keep Eva too focused on winning instead of on my nasty habit of daydreaming lately. “I’ll rack’em.”