She shoves a dish into my hands, unceremoniously passing it to me and marching into the kitchen. She cuts a direct path to the open bottle of wine and pours herself a glass.
She says, “Your father told me once that you liked mushrooms, so I made a mushroom soup.”
I close the door behind me, cradling the bowl in my arms. Well, Dad’s lack of ability to remember that I hate mushrooms is beside the point, I think. The fact that she remembered such a small thing from so many moons ago and then went out of her way to make something specifically because she thought I would like it?
Hunter comes into the room, fully clothed this time, and kisses his mother as he takes her coat. He looks at me, “You okay, Piper? Why are you smiling?”
“Because your mother made mushroom soup,” I whisper, still staring at the woman as she gulps down her first glass of wine and pours herself another.
“Okay,” he answers, taking the soup from my hands and bringing it into the kitchen to reheat.
Samantha looks at the wall of windows over past the living room. “It’s probably awful. I hate cooking. Try not to do it much.”
“No,” I say and I grab her, and pull her into a hug. She’s stiff, like a matchstick, but eventually she softens into the embrace. “It’s perfect.”
When I let go, her lip-curl widens, softens a bit, maybe.
“If you like this wine, Samantha, you should let me make you a margarita someday. I’ve grown rather famous for recommending them, you know.”
About the Author
Traci is a snarky, over-worked, and tragically under-respected mother of teens. She lives in Connecticut, where she can be found sipping wine and playing with her dogs.
Also by Traci Highland
Miss Camp : A quick story of the youthful hijinks of Ann and Elise.
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Miss Behave (The Anderson Family Series Book 1) Page 28