Mom and I finished up our morning of flea markets and antiquing in Searsport and came back to Ellsworth to eat lunch. My favorite finds: a marble-topped end table and an old copper coffee pot. Mom bought a couple agateware pieces to add to her collection and picked up some tiny Wades miniatures for her curio cabinet.

It’s been a good mother-daughter day, but I’m also celebrating that my closing on the building went off without a hitch yesterday. Not that I’m surprised; having my BFF involved kept me relaxed and confident about the whole thing. At lunch, I’m planning to tell Mom about that new venture. And about Damon.

We’re heading down the sidewalk toward Finn’s Irish Pub when my mother spies a bearded man in a red flannel shirt and dirty jeans, sitting on the curb in front of the restaurant and smoking a cigarette. He looks equal parts bored and pissed.

Thankfully, there aren’t many homeless people in Ellsworth, but leave it to Annie Brewster to find them. She is compassionate to a fault, and I watch in loving exasperation as she fishes in her pocket for what I know is coming.

She whispers loudly to me out of the side of her mouth. “This is why I always carry a five-dollar bill with me.”

I answer, whispering out of the side of my mouth, too. “So you can give it to someone who’s probably going to spend it on cigarettes?”

“Laney,” she scolds me. “He could be Jesus.”

“He could be, but probably not.” Although...if Garry Marshall was playing a homeless guy in Pretty Woman, I guess anything could be possible.

She shushes me and walks over to the man, handing him the five and telling him she hoped he’d have a brighter day. He looks at her warily for a few seconds, takes the money and then says “Bless you.”

Mom turns back to me and gives me a triumphant smile.

We settle into a booth at Finn’s and order haddock sandwiches, salads and iced teas. Mom takes her phone from her purse, and I watch as a glow spreads over her face. It’s the kind of glow that a girl gets when a guy she likes has texted her.

I happen to know that glow, because I feel it whenever I get a text from Damon.

She catches me looking at her and quickly puts her phone away. “Just a text from a friend, asking about going to a movie tonight.”

I nod, but I don’t want to know any more. It’s still hard, having my parents apart.

“Did I tell you I’m going on a meditation retreat? Cecile and I are doing it. It’s in Boulder. Ten days of silent meditation.”

“Wow—that actually sounds really challenging.”

“Frankly, I’m not sure I can keep my mouth shut for ten days. But I want to try. Do some more soul-searching. My yoga instructor said it was one of the best experiences she’s ever had. And as you know, I’m all about trying new things.”

And there’s my segue. “Speaking of trying new things...I have something to share.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.” I break into a huge smile, like I do now whenever I talk about it. “I’m opening a café. I just closed on the building yesterday—I’ll take you to see it after lunch. It’s got an apartment above it, too. I’m actually moving out of my place tomorrow.”

“Oh my goodness, honey—that’s so exciting! I’m so happy for you. Especially that you get to leave those tools at Precision Machine. And I’m talking about your bosses.”

“Careful, Mom,” I grin. “One of them might be Jesus.”

She snorts. “Not a chance. I want to hear more about the café.”

I tell her about the equipment I plan to order and tap on my Pinterest mobile app to show her the décor ideas I’ve saved. And then I decide to be proactive and casually slide into the conversation that a friend who wants to remain anonymous lent me the money to purchase the building.

I don’t need to worry about this, though, because my mother is so excited about the what that she really doesn’t care about the how. We chat excitedly about my new venture in between (and sometimes during) bites of our lunch, and then I share my other news, shoving the guilt away because of the fake factor.

“Also, Mom, I’m seeing someone.”

“Is it a...”

Jesus. “It’s a guy, Mom. Because I’m heterosexual.”

She clasps her hands delightedly. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s wonderful! Either would have been absolutely fine, of course...I’m just so thrilled you’re out there! I knew the time would come. So who is this new man in your life?”

I’m careful about what I tell her—just enough bits and pieces to satisfy her curiosity: his first name, his age, hair color and that he works for a boat company. I emphasize that we just started dating and how neither of us is looking for anything serious.

I leave out the part about him being a multi-millionaire. Also the part where he can practically bring me to orgasm with a kiss. And definitely the part where he’s not actually my boyfriend.

But even with minimal details, she’s brimming with happiness for me, and beaming with pride about my café. Nestled amidst my love and gratitude for Annie Brewster is a pocket of pain for Damon, who has never known a mother like this.

Later that afternoon, I’ve got the U-Haul outside my place and am packing up the last of my kitchen cupboards when the phone rings. My heart does the now-familiar little leap thing when I see Damon’s name.

“Delaney Brewster, girlfriend for hire. How can I help you?”

“You really want me to answer that?”

“Um, no. How are you?”

“I’m good. Just got back from playing a little one-on-one at the gym with Tommy. What are you up to?”

“Finishing packing.”

“Ah...I can relate to the joy.”

“It hasn’t been too bad with just a one-bedroom.”

“I would have gotten the U-Haul for you today, you know.”

“It’s okay...I just felt funny asking since we’re not really—you know.” Ugh. I scrunch my shoulders at the discomfort of saying this. Of knowing this. “Jack and Maddie offered to bring it over, so it was no problem.”

“What time is the big move tomorrow?”

“8 a.m.”

“I’ll definitely be there for that. How was the rest of your day?”

“Very nice. Spent part of it with my mom, and she now knows about you.”

“Did it go well?”

“Yes. She’s been wanting me to see someone for a long time, so this was definitely good news for her.”

“Just a bit different from my mother, then. Speaking of Gloria...she was acting suspicious of us the other day. It got me wondering if she’d hire a private investigator to watch me.”

“Seriously? She would do that?”

“I might be paranoid, but I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

I cradle my phone between my ear and the crook of my neck as I wrap a coffee mug in newspaper. I don’t want her making things more stressful for either one of us, especially Damon.

He continues. “So...I suggest that we don’t give her any reason to doubt our relationship.” A pause. “Maybe we could spend the night together a few times, in case she’s having me followed.”

This makes me smile. “That would be the only reason, though, right?”

I can hear a grin in his voice. “Oh, definitely. No other reason. I’ve convinced her that the reason you’re not moving in with me is because your mother is crazy religious.”

“That’s not far from the truth. Especially the crazy part.”

“And listen, nothing needs to happen. We can just talk.”

Bullshit. Having a platonic sleepover with Damon Cavanaugh would be about as likely as the sun setting in the east. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Maybe you can use tonight to give it some thought. I figured you might want a break from me, anyway, so I’ll probably grab a couple beers with the guys, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the big move.”

I do not want a break from you. That is actually the last thing I want.

“Okay, sounds good!” I inject my voice with cheerfulness before ending the call, aware of an ache beginning a faint pulse in my belly, because tomorrow morning seems very far away.