The Goal (Off-Campus #4)(91)

She laughs even harder, her belly bouncing up and down. I reach over and stroke the curve myself. It feels good to see her laughing again.

“Mom’s going to love you,” I assure her. “You’ll see.”

*

Mom hates her.

Or at least, she’s doing a good job of hiding her love. The initial meeting wasn’t so bad. We picked Mom up at the Holiday Inn and drove her back to my apartment, which is thankfully free of Brody at the moment. He and Hollis are celebrating the Fourth in New Hampshire with their family.

On the ride over, Mom and Sabrina had chatted awkwardly, but the tension had been manageable.

Now, that tension is damn near suffocating me.

“Where do you live, Sabrina?” Mom asks as she surveys my two-bedroom apartment.

“With my nana and stepfather.”

“Hmmm.”

Sabrina winces at this obvious lack of approval.

I shoot Mom an irritated glance. “Sabrina’s saving money so her debt won’t be too big when she gets out of law school.”

Mom raises a brow. “And how much debt will that be?”

“Too much,” Sabrina jokes.

“I hope you don’t expect John to pay it off for you.”

“Of course not,” Sabrina exclaims.

“Mom!” I say at the same time.

“What? I’m looking out for you, baby. Just as you’ll be tasked with looking out for your daughter.” She tips her head toward Sabrina’s belly.

Sabrina smiles tightly and decides to change the subject. “I wish we’d been able to come to Patterson. I bet it’s a great place to raise children. You certainly did an amazing job with Tucker.”

Sincerity bleeds out of every word, and even my mother can hear it. Thankfully, she softens slightly. “Yes, it’s a wonderful place. And they have a delightful Fourth of July picnic. This year, Emma Hopkins was the organizer.”

“Your old girlfriend, Tuck,” Sabrina teases on her way to the refrigerator. “We should’ve tried harder to fly down.”

“The airline wouldn’t let us. Besides, we can get drunk and shoot off bottle rockets here, and it’ll be just like we were there,” I say dryly. “Speaking of drinking—Mom, you want a glass of wine?”

“Red, please,” she says, settling into a stool at the counter.

Sabrina pulls out the beef patties she’d carefully constructed earlier today. I’m more than capable of cooking, but she wouldn’t allow me to lift a finger. Everything from the potato salad to the baked beans had been prepared by her.

We manage to make it halfway through dinner without any hostility, as Sabrina asks Mom a ton of questions about Patterson, Mom’s salon business, and even Dad. It’s the stuff about my father that really gets my mother talking.

“He said his car broke down, but I don’t believe him,” she declares between bites of her burger.

Sabrina’s eyes widen. “You think he faked it so he could stay there and get to know you?”

My mother smirks. “I don’t think so. I know so.”

I’ve heard the story a thousand times, but it’s as entertaining this time as it ever was. More so, actually, because this time Sabrina’s the audience and she doesn’t believe in love. But Mom’s devotion to my father is unmistakable.

“John Senior, Tucker’s dad, admitted to it when I got pregnant with Tucker. He said he pulled the spark plug out of the car and that he got the idea from watching The Sound of Music with his mama. I even asked Bill—he’s the local mechanic—who confirmed that the only thing wrong with John’s car was a missing plug.”

“That’s the most romantic story I’ve ever heard.”

I don’t miss the way Sabrina is pushing the salad around on her plate. For the most part, she’s done a good job of hiding her ongoing nervousness, but her lack of appetite is a dead giveaway. I make a mental note to fix up a plate for her after I take care of the dishes.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sabrina adds, her tone soft with sympathy.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

I smile to myself. Mom’s definitely thawed.

Sabrina turns to me. “How old were you when your father passed? Was it three or four?”

“Three,” I confirm, popping a potato chunk in my mouth.

“That’s so young.” She makes an absent pass of her hand along her stomach.

“You didn’t know?” Mom interjects, the chill back in her voice.

“No, I knew,” Sabrina fumbles. “I just forgot the exact age.”

“Have the two of you talked about anything important, or is it simply a physical thing? Because you certainly can’t raise a child on lust alone.”

“Mom,” I say sharply. “We’ve talked about important things.”

“Will you be living together? How will you share finances? Who will take care of your child when you’re in class?”

Sabrina gets a hunted look in her eyes. “I—I… My nana is helping out.”

“John says she’s reluctant. I’m not sure a reluctant caregiver is a good one.”

Sabrina aims a glare of betrayal in my direction.

“I said we didn’t know what kind of help she’d offer.” I lay down my fork. “It’ll all work out.” This is directed to both of them, but neither take it well.