Page 45 of Never Pucking Ending

Her lips twitch, which tells me she’s holding back a response.

I give her a pointed look. “Just say what’s on your mind. You have a terrible poker face.”

Defeat crests her expression. “Don’t take this the wrong way, honey. But you’re not like those other women. You’re not living with your significant other. You’re living with your stepbrother. And whenever somebody tries setting you up, there’s always a reason why it doesn’t work. He chews too loudly. He didn’t hold the door open for you. He was only five-foot-eight.”

I cross my arms. “Those are perfectly valid reasons not to date somebody.”

She deadpans. “Belle, you’re barely five-three. Five-eight is tall compared to you. And, okay, I understand not liking somebody’s chewing habits. But not holding the door open for you? Maybe he was just nervous.”

Is she kidding? “He literally opened the door, walked in, and let it close on me. And he spent the first ten minutes of the date looking at his phone to see the score of a baseball game.”

She cringes.

Yeah. Thought so.

“Look,” I say with a sigh. “I know you want me to have the life you do. You want to see me get married and have babies and a white picket fence dream. But those aren’t my dreams. I mean, yes, I want to get married. And yes, I think I want a kid. Rushing that isn’t exactly smart, though. You know firsthand what happens when you marry the wrong person. I’m glad things worked out for you in the end and that you met Frank. He’s amazing and it’s so obvious you two love each other. But dating isn’t as easy nowadays. Dating apps and social media have made people too accessible. Now everybody has a million options, and they think they can always do better because of what’s available at their fingertips. And God forbid a man realizes a woman is successful, or heaven help him more successful than him, then it’s game over because of his fragile masculinity.

“Believe it or not, Mom, I have tried. I’ve gone on almost every blind date you or your friends have set me up on. And sure. Maybe I get a little too nitpicky. But would you rather I settle for somebody I don’t love for the sake of getting married and having kids, or waiting until I’m actually ready and doing that with somebody who I look at as my whole world?”

She’s quiet, but it’s a no brainer what she’s thinking. Of course she wants me to find the right person. I don’t remember much about my dad. He left when I was too young to hold onto many core memories with him. It’s been Mom and I for as long as I can remember until Frank and Jesse entered the picture. She has always told me to wait until I find the right person to marry because it will make life a better experience. I’ve met a lot of people between sports games I’ve attended, the business I owned, and the people Mom has tried setting me up with. And not one person has stood out to me the way Frank did to her.

Eventually, Mom nods. “You’re right. I want you to be happy with the person you wind up with. I wish things were easier for you, Belle. I really do. Because love…” Her smile is small and sad. “It’s one of the best things to ever experience and I want you to.”

Sadness sweeps over me. “I feel loved every day, Mom. I love a lot of people and a lot of people love me. You don’t have to worry about that.”

She watches me carefully, a solemn expression on her face that I want gone. Isn’t this supposed to be a fun day? This conversation is anything but.

“And hey,” I joke lightheartedly. “At least you have one grandbaby now. He just has four legs and one and a half ears.”

Her eyes drop down to where Dobby is stretched on the floor, batting at a string hanging from the sweatshirt I stole from Jesse’s closet a long time ago that’s draped on the chair Mom is sitting on.

When she looks up at me, her lips are pressed together again like she’s about to say something but refrains. This time, I don’t push her to enlighten me.

Because the way she stares at Jesse’s sweatshirt tells me I don’t want to know what she’s tempted to ask.

*

Frank is won over by Dobby despite being slightly allergic to him and spends the rest of dinner sniffling. I feel bad that his new furry grandson made his eyes red and watery, but he didn’t seem to mind when they dropped Jesse and I both off at home and said goodbye to the cat before he did to us.

Thankfully, Mom didn’t drill me about Dane or any other man while we ate. I have a feeling Frank is to thank for that, because there were a few times she looked between Jesse and I and acted as though she wanted to say something before her husband would subtly shake his head.

When they’re gone, I debate on going back to my office to finish the sketch that I couldn’t focus on when Mom was giving me the third degree. I stop at the doorway, though, gripping the wall and turning to Jesse who’s halfway down the hall.

“Does your dad want grandkids?” I blurt, wincing as soon as the question is out of my mouth.

Jesse stops mid-step, his spine straightening as he turns to face me. I’m glad he’s far enough away so he can’t see the heat blossoming under my cheeks and probably turning my whole face a hideous shade of red.

Clearing my throat, I scratch my cheek. “I mean, does he ever ask you about settling down and the future? Because my mom brought up dating and said some stuff that got me thinking…” I lift a shoulder. “It just made me wonder if Frank ever brought that stuff up to you.”

I feel dumb for asking. Why did I open my mouth? Frank is usually the calm one who stays out of people’s business. I doubt he would be asking Jesse when he’s having kids since he’s never been in a stable relationship. Ugh. Why do I do this to myself?

Backing up, I tug at the hem of my sweatshirt and try playing it off. “You know what? Forget I asked. Sorry. I’m going to work on—”

“He does,” Jesse cuts me off, not letting me finish. “Want grandkids, I mean. He doesn’t say it outright, but I see the way he interacts with his friends’ grandkids. It’s obvious he’d love to be able to play with one of his own someday.”

I find myself nodding. Their neighbors have a few grandkids who come swim in their pool sometimes. They love hosting them. “I forgot about that. He’s good with kids.”

Jesse doesn’t reply right away. He drags his tongue along the seam of lips, thinking about something that passes over his face cautiously. “I feel the pressure too, Bells. If that’s why you’re asking, I get it. Our parents both had kids when they were younger. They married when they were younger. It’s hard for them to understand how we live the way we do when they didn’t get to experience the same things.”