The Boyfriend (The Boss 7)

“Are we sautéing these or—“

“No, they’re not supposed to get mushy. If they get mushy, they won’t be like Ma’s.” She drew the “a” sound out in a long, nasally impression of Tony.

I quirked my mouth and pushed the contents of the skillet around with a wooden spoon. “You know, I find it interesting that you have such a problem with Neil all the time, and now you’re dealing with the mother-in-law from hell...”

“Are you calling me a mother-in-law from hell?” Mom demanded. She blew a strand of long blonde bangs from her face. “I am nothing like Tony’s mother. And I don’t have a problem with Neil. When have I ever had a problem with Neil?”

“Three times a day since you met him,” I said without hesitation. The oven beeped.

“That’s the bread. Hang on.” She shooed me out of the way and retrieved a split loaf of glistening garlic bread from the oven. It wasn’t the store-bought freezer kind.

“I distinctly remember eating Tombstone pizzas and mac and cheese almost every night growing up,” I observed.

“I distinctly remember the state paying for our groceries, so I couldn’t exactly afford to go all out,” she reminded me. She lifted the oven door with her foot and bumped it closed with her hip. “You have to stop offering to do stuff financially for Tony and me. It makes him feel terrible.”

“Well, it makes me feel terrible that you think I shouldn’t help you,” I countered. “Especially, when I have the means to do it.”

Mom put the bread down and moved the skillet off the burner before clicking the gas off. She wiped her hands on her apron, then put them on my shoulders. “You have helped me, Sophie. Look at the life I have. I didn’t have to move back in with grandma after the fire. I don’t have to work my shitty old job for one-percent raises every other year. I’m not giving up Friday nights to patient sit for extra cash. This house is better than anything I could have ever gotten on my own.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve seen my place, but extremely same.” I went to the cupboard for serving bowl, standing on my tiptoes to reach it. “The difference between me and you guys is that I’m not tangled in my own bootstraps. I’m grateful for what I have, and I have enough to share. You and Tony both need to start seeing it that way. Otherwise, I’m going to be insulted.”

“Be insulted,” she said breezily, taking the bowl from my hands. “I’m sure it won’t be the only time.”

“Mom. Seriously.” I blew out a long breath. “You realize that I could buy you a house with the interest Neil’s bank accounts accrue in a single day?”

“I’m sure you could,” she said, scraping the sausage and peppers into the bowl. “But we can buy a house on our own. We can afford it. Tony has tons of money saved up since his former employer paid room and board and vision and dental.”

“Okay, right there! Why was it okay for us to compensate him with that for his job, but not to just outright to give it to him as a member of the family?” I demanded.

Mom stopped and looked up. “You think of him as a member of the family?”

“Well, I mean.” Yikes. Honest emotion with my mother could be intensely uncomfortable. It always had been. I’d always been torn between hating to hear “I love you” and desperately craving her love. Talking openly about me feeling some sort of attachment for the person she was marrying? I didn’t know if I could cope with that. “He’s marrying you, right? So, he would be a part of the family. But also, we liked him when he was driving for us. It’s not like he’s some total stranger. And we were still giving him those things.”

“You were paying him those things. And you were paying well because the two of you are apparently a lot to put up with.” She raised an eyebrow at me, and I felt like I was shrinking.

I lifted my chin and dispelled those feelings. “You know, he did sign a non-disclosure agreement while he was working for us. He probably shouldn’t be talking to you about what he put up with.”

“He hasn’t told me any specifics.” She took out a platter and a big knife for the bread. “But he was on twenty-four hour call?”

“Okay, guilty. But not unheard of.” I took the platter she handed to me and headed for the door to the dining room.

“And everyone knows people get up to hanky-panky in the back of limos,” she said in a scolding sing-song.

“Well, I hope it puts your mind at ease to know we don’t have a limo.” My face was so hot, I wondered if I was going into early menopause or something.