To say his mom is surprised is an understatement. She opens her mouth, but words seem to fail her, because she closes it again. She turns to face me, and that look of disapproval morphs into relief.
"Holy hell, I never thought I'd see the day again," she says, pulling me into a hug. It is warm and motherly; the kind of hug I have sorely missed. "Nice to meet you, Megs. You're completely forgiven for trying to kill me with my own vase."
"That's a relief," I say. "It's nice to meet you, too, Dr. Chastener."
"Please," she says, pulling away, "call me Sam."
Jeremiah and I assist with the remainder of the shopping, and then his mother prepares bacon and waffles for us at the breakfast table. Jeremiah's fingers thread through mine under the table as she's telling us about her trip to Santa B
