“Talk to who?” asked the voice in her ear. “What are you talking about?

Antonia jumped in her seat, forgetting she was still on the phone with her mother. Another mom phone call during work hours. Luckily things were moving slowly at Wild Hare Publishing. So slowly, that she was arrogant enough to break out her own novel and talk to her meddling mother at the same time. “Nothing, Mom.” Her hands fell away from her keyboard as she sank against her chair. Antonia closed her eyes. “What were you saying?”

“I’m just telling you the truth, baby.” Whenever Diane Harper started any sentence with I’m just telling you the truth, it usually ended with something she was proud to be honest about. And Diane’s truth usually hurt Antonia’s feelings. “Did you ever think this whole affair is running a little too fast?”

The pit in Antonia’s stomach sank lower as her mother continued. The “affair” Diane referred to was Antonia’s wedding. An event happening in four days. Her mother loved to dabble in dramatic flair and her poor timing didn’t make a wit of difference. Antonia slumped deeper into her office chair and stared at the floor. “Mama, what are you talking about?”

Diane let out a tired sigh. “You’ve been dating this boy for less than a year, Antonia. What do you really know about him?”

“His name is Derek; you’ve met him several times,” Antonia said. “And we’ve been dating for a little over a year. I mean, you married Charlie after he changed your tire.” It was a low blow, but her mother always took her there. When Diane Harper sent a flaming arrow into the battlefield, Antonia returned with several cannons.

“Tuh! Things are different when you’re my age, Toni. After your daddy died, I didn’t know if I’d ever get married again. And girl, I knew Charlie from back in the day.”

Antonia shook her head. She didn’t want to delve into the particulars of how her mother, who was in her sixties, “got her groove back.” She and her sister, Octavia, lost their father when Antonia was twelve-years-old. When their mother announced her hurried courthouse nuptials, they were adults who were shocked, but ultimately supportive. Charlie was an easygoing stepdad who stayed out of the way when Diane went on a warpath with either daughter. Even during her phone call, Antonia pictured Charlie somewhere in the background quietly reading the morning paper. “Your problem with Derek is...what? Why don’t you like him?”

“Well if you want the honest answer, I’ll just say this: I don’t like how you act when you’re with him. When you brought his bougie-ass down here, you worried over him like he was the King of Saudi Arabia.”

Antonia straightened in her chair. Her mother was opening the full armory for this argument. “Now wait a minute—”

“—I saw you fix that boy a plate,” Diane continued. “Now I didn’t teach you girls to fix any man’s plate like some sad housewife.”