“You spend time with her when you're not trying to.”
“That's not a sentence.”
“You know what I mean.”
Unfortunately, I do.
Because he's right.
I don't just want Mary.
I want to talk to her.
I want to hear about her students.
I want to know how the fundraiser is going.
I want to hear her complain about her day.
I want to bring her coffee.
I want—Jesus.
I really do have it bad.
“You know what Mom's gonna say, right?” Ego asks.
“Oh, God.”
“She's gonna take one look at you and know.”
“You better not fucking tell her.”
“Kai, she raised us. And Sabrina reminds me to check in once a week.”
“Yeah, but I'm not you!”
“And?”
“And I'm an adult.”
Ego laughs so hard he actually snorts.
“Mom doesn't care if you’re an adult. You’ll always be her baby boy!”
“She'll ask when you're getting married.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“She'll ask about babies.”
“EGO.”
“She'll threaten to beat your ass if you screw this up.”
“That one is actually true.”
“Very true.”