“Yes,” my mom draws out, narrowing her eyes at me. And seriously, I don’t blame her because I’m acting like a nut. “Why are you laughing, Remington Haywood Hale?”
The use of my full name by my mother erases a bit of the hilarity, and I begin to heave in a few deep breaths to get myself under control, my laughter slowing to deep chuckles.
“Because,” I manage to say, shaking my head as I look between my mother and the man whose job it is to protect me. “Because I think this is fantastic.”
No one in the room has eyebrows anymore because they’ve all shot up into their respective hairlines.
“You do?” Antonio asks, utterly shocked by my reaction. I nod, and he drags a hand down his face. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I need a drink.”
Mom pats his chest. “That’s a good idea, honey. Why don’t you arrange drinks for everyone while I go turn off the bathwater.” Her cheeks pinken again as glances at me. Then she gives me her bestmom eye. “Don’t act like an ass while I’m gone.”
I step forward and kiss her cheek. “I won’t, Mom. I’m really happy for you.”
Her brown eyes soften before she retreats to the back of the suite. A minute later, I find myself seated in an armchair with Mindy on my lap. I’m not complaining, though I’m pretty sure she sat there to hold me down in case I decide to turn into an idiot. I won’t.
As Antonio hands Mindy and me a glass of scotch, my mother returns dressed in black leggings and a gigantic T-shirt that has to be Antonio’s. She folds a leg beneath her and sits gracefully on the couch. The big man sits beside her and hands her a glass, which she sips. They both look at me expectantly.
“First of all,” I say, “I’m not calling you Daddy.”
A grin creeps across Antonio’s lips beneath his full beard. “That’s okay. Your mum calls?—”
“Bahhh!” I cry, shaking my head and slamming down the entire two fingers of brown liquor. “Do not finish that sentence.”
He booms out a laugh as Mom swats his arm in consternation. “I’m kidding with you, lad.” Lifting his glass in a salute, he says, “I assume you have questions?”
My eyes pass between them. Mom is sitting with her body angled toward him, and he has an arm draped along the back of the couch behind her. She’s so tiny compared to him, but they really do look sweet together.
“I, um… How long has this been going on?”
“A few months,” my mother replies. “When you asked Antonio to drive me home after you and I had lunch one day, he walked me inside to make sure I got in okay. There was a busted pipe in my kitchen, and I panicked because there was water all over the floor.”
My head bobs up and down. “I remember. You said Antonio got the water stopped for you.”
“And spent the afternoon helping me clean up,” Mom adds, looking with so much affection at the man beside her. “I made him dinner as a thank you.”
“Nothing happened that night,” Antonio assures me, averting his gaze to my mother. “Except Ophelia’s lasagna bewitched me.”
His eyes are so soft on her, and I smile, pretty sure it was more than just the food that had bewitched him. I’ve never seen him like this.
Mom pulls her eyes away and returns her attention to me. “So next time I made Italian food, I invited him over again. We talked for hours. Antonio is an excellent conversationalist.”
“Antonio?” I ask flatly. “The man who only communicated in grunts for the entire first year I knew him?”
She giggles. “Yes, one and the same. We decided we enjoyed spending time together, and it eventually…” Her lips roll in between her teeth. “It turned into more.” Mom places her hand on his thigh, and they gaze at each other like lovesick fools once again. It’s kind of fucking adorable.
Antonio finally manages to stop making goo goo eyes at my mother and levels his gaze on me. “Is that enough information, or would you like a more detailed account?”
I shake my head until I’m afraid I’ve given myself a subdural hematoma. “Noooo, that’s plenty. Thank you.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Antonio rises to answer, coming back with a tray of chocolate-dipped strawberries, my mother’s favorite. “You want one?” he asks us, and Mindy shakes her head.
“No, those are for you,” she says politely, and I erase any ideas about why my mother and Antonio ordered strawberries. For the bath.Fuck. I’m open to the idea of them being together, but I do not need any type of naked information in my head.
“You seem to be taking this very well,” Mom notes. “We were worried since this is a complicated situation. I’m a little older, and Antonio works for you.” The worry is evident in the crease of her brow.
Setting my empty glass aside, I give the couple my full attention. “I’m a grown man, Mom, not an angsty teenager who’s mad my parents are getting a divorce,” I say, referencing the time all those years ago when my parents separated. My mother gives me a sympathetic smile. “You’ve been nothing but supportive when each of your sons found the love of their life. I think you deserve the same respect.”
Mindy makes a littleawwsound while Mom places a hand over her heart. “Thank you, sweetheart.”