Sophie (The Boss 8)

We already were, but it was nice to have it affirmed in front of our loved ones.

The three of us exchanged quick kisses so as not to disgust the girls, and our small audience applauded. The people in our lives who were most important to us accepted our relationship and even celebrated it. It was hard to maintain my composure; this had seemed so impossible just months before.

The party moved back inside, where we ushered in the New Year with a buffet of way too many hors d’oeuvres not to be just a full-on meal. Keeping Olivia from stuffing herself with near-emetic levels of chocolate lava cake proved to be mission impossible; every time I turned around, she was running somewhere with ganache smeared all over her face.

I was just happy I got a second chance to try eating at my own wedding reception. I kinda failed at that with the first one.

On my way into the dining room to destroy my pancreas, Mom stopped me in the doorway. “I wish you would have told me this was a wedding. I could have brought a gift.”

I bristled at that. “Do you want me to be honest, or do you want me just to say no gifts were necessary but thank you for the thought?”

“Sophie—”

“I didn’t tell you because we were afraid you wouldn’t come if you knew it was a wedding.” It hurt to have to say that to my mother, but she’d never given us a clear sign of just how “accepting” she would be.

She hadn’t earned her stricken expression, in my opinion.

“I know our arrangement isn’t what you’re used to. And I know that you have all these moral issues or whatever,” I went on. “But even with all of that, even though I didn’t know how you would react to all of this? I still wanted you to be here. So, I have to know…can I trust you to understand how much I love my husbands? To respect the bond between the three of us without snide little digs or weird judgments?”

She nodded, her eyes glazing with tears. “I had no idea I had made you feel this way.”

“Well, you kinda did. We’ve talked about it before.” I wouldn’t let her off the hook. “But look, it’s past now. And I’m happy.”

Mom took a deep breath and composed herself regally. “Listen…we all make unconventional choices sometimes. Look at me. I was a single mom at sixteen. And people judged me for that. It’s not fair of me to judge you.”

I swallowed a lump of emotion.

“Especially since so many people are going to judge me for having a baby at my age.”

…the fuck did she just say to me?

“You’re not.” I shook my head. “Mom, you’re like fifty.”

“Sophie Anne, you shut that filthy mouth right now. I am not fifty.” She huffed her indignation, and I realized where I’d picked up my hatred of aging. “I thought I’d gone through menopause. Then all of a sudden…”

“I…am disturbed? But also…maybe happy for you?”

“Maybe happy?” She tilted her head as if looking at me from a different angle would make my statement somehow more enthusiastic.

“It’s a lot to process!” I hissed back. “You and I are going to have a long talk about safe sex, young lady.”

“I told you I thought it was menopause!” she hissed right back.

Across the living room, I saw Neil catch sight of us standing apart from the rest of the gathering and whispering to each other, and his expression instantly turned to concern.

“We’ll talk about this later, okay?” I promised. “And I’ll process and get back to you.”

She smiled and put her arm around my shoulders. “And I’ll give you as much time as you need, just so long as it’s on my schedule.”

I laughed and leaned my head on her. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, honey.” She kissed the side of my head. “And I’m proud of you and the life you’ve made for yourself.”

I could have pointed out that I hadn’t made it for myself; I’d fallen ass-backward into it the moment I’d changed my mind about NYU and bought that ticket to Tokyo.

That had been the best decision of my life. Maybe I should give myself a little credit.

Our guests didn’t stay long after the stroke of midnight; we were all way past the days of partying until the wee hours. Though we’d offered to let everyone stay overnight, the unusually crisp, dry night made travel back to the city possible. Holli wanted to sleep in her own bed, the twins needed their cribs, and Mom was dragging ass by the time she and Tony made it out to the car. She’d probably be asleep before they even left the driveway.

Did it worry me that my mom was having a baby in her late forties? Yes, but not because I thought she would die or have terrible complications. My biggest fear was how grumpy she would be. And how much Tony would spoil her.