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“Shopping.”

“Shopping.”

“It's Black Friday.”

“I'm aware.”

I reach for a dish towel. “People still shop on Black Friday, Mom.”

“I know they do.” She waits. “I’ve known about Black Friday since cabbage patch dolls.”

I dry the plate.

Very thoroughly.

Finally, she says, “You know, you could just tell me you want to get back for Hayes's birthday.”

My hand stills. “I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to.”

I look at her.

She's smiling, but there's something gentler beneath it.

Something that makes me feel like I'm seventeen again, standing in this same kitchen, trying to convince her I didn't have a crush on my brother's best friend.

Except I'm not seventeen anymore.

And what I'm keeping from her is considerably more complicated.

“Mom…”

She holds up a hand.

“I'm not asking.”

I let out a breath.

“Good.”

“I'm just saying, if that's why you're going back, I think it's sweet.”

I look down at the towel in my hands. “It's his birthday.”

“I know.”

“And he's alone.”

“I know that, too.”

I hesitate. “He doesn't really like making a big deal about it.”

Mom's expression softens. “No. He never has.”

There's something in the way she says it that makes me look up.

“What?”