I’m not sure how I’d like her living up here. I guess I’m not entirely sure I’m staying here forever myself. Micah has talked about us eventually joining Duke in Ann Arbor, but even that is up in the air … I have a lot of months left in this gap year, and I intend to use them.

Though, as long as I’m with Micah, I don’t care where I am.

So, I guess it would be okay if my mom moved here. After all, Marquette has done wonders to patch my broken heart. Perhaps it can work a miracle in hers as well.

My mom glances over at me and smiles. “You look sleepy, kid.”

A yawn pops out before I can stop it. “I am. You and Miss Betty kept me up late with your chitchat last night.”

“More like Micah kept you up late after we left,” Betty teases with a twinkle in her eyes, and I inhale so sharply, I choke on air, hacking until my eyes are streaming. Once I’ve recovered, I steal a glance at my mom. Her cheeks are pink, but she’s tried to school her features to resemble “accepting.”

“He did not,” I shoot back, rolling my eyes like the petulant teen I am. “He left minutes after you did. Ask James.”

“It’s okay, Meg,” my mom insists. “Truly. She’s only teasing. Micah seems like a very nice boy.”

“He is,” I say.

“I trust you, Meg.”

My eyes meet my mom’s, and it’s like we’re the only two people in the room. “You do?” I whisper.

“I do.”

I release a slow breath. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She grins.

“I have a tattoo.” I blurt the confession.

This time, my mom rolls her eyes like a teen. “Yeah, I know. Hope you don’t regret that when you’re my age.”

“How did you know?” I ask, shooting an accusatory glance at Betty.

My mom shakes her head. “Declan told me. We had dinner after his visit to see you. The man is terrible at keeping secrets.”

“What are you talking about?” I howl. “He’s been keeping his sexuality secret his entire life.”

“Not from me,” she reminds me, almost smug. I gape at her. Who is this woman?

“Well,” I say, a little sheepish. “I guess not really from me either. Maybe he is terrible at secrets.”

“Within minutes, he was telling me about your wings, your boyfriend, and your ice-skating. By the end of dinner, he was pulling out his phone and showing me photos of Richard, his new online boyfriend. I haven’t seen Declan that giddy since I bought him that Mark McGrath poster in the eleventh grade.”

Betty chortles. “Is that the kid with the hair from that band?”

“Sugar Ray, and yes.” My mom’s eyes are sparkling.

“Andrew had that same haircut. Looked like a spiky blond porcupine.”