Lean On Me - Bill Withers
"Lean on me, when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend. I'll help you carry on."
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Y/N's POV
I pulled up to the restaurant that my mom had picked out. It was a local Irish pub that served really good authentic Irish food and beer. Exactly the kind of place my mom and I would love to go to on any given night. I loved pubs so I was glad I would be in an atmosphere like that, I just really wasn't looking forward to this conversation.
I was placing a mental bet with myself on how long it would take my mom to notice I wasn't wearing my wedding ring. I say... five minutes tops. She was very observant.
I walked through the front doors and was immediately greeted with the smell of wood, beer, and... potatoes? I guess that checks out.
I looked around and spotted my mom waving at me from a corner booth in the back.
'At least it's somewhat secluded' I thought to myself. I plastered a smile onto my face, made my way over, and slid into the booth opposite her.
"Hey, mom." I started, "Merry almost Christmas."
"Hey, Scoot. Merry almost Christmas!"
I inwardly cringed at the childhood nickname that she used. It's not that I disliked it, I actually did like it. The full nickname my dad came up with was Scooter. Then, throughout the years it morphed to Scooter Jones, SJ, and Scoot. I loved my dad more than most, so I always happily went along with it because it made him happy. It was my nickname on all my sports teams as well and it just followed me into adulthood.
"What are you thinking of ordering?" I asked, trying to immediately steer the direction of the conversation away from anything too serious. At least until after we eat.
The waitress came over and took our order, and I noticed how friendly she was. Extremely friendly actually. She walked away and almost instantly came back with our beers. After I thanked the waitress, I looked back at my mom and she had her eyebrows raised at me.
"What?" I said sipping on the beer that was just brought to us.
"She likes you."
I choked on the beer that I was trying to swallow and some spewed out at her words and dribbled down my chin.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, wiping the drops from my face with a napkin.
My mom sighed and said, "You never really did notice when people were interested. You are much prettier than you give yourself credit for. Why don't you see that?"
I gave her an uncomfortable smile. "Maybe one day."
"Anyways, are you excited for Christmas? What did you get Kevin?"
I looked down at my hands, my fingers fidgeting together. My mom followed my gaze and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.
"Where is your wedding ring? Are you getting it cleaned?"
I just nodded and hummed in response. Took longer than five minutes. Jamie (mom's name) needs to step her game up.
As I was about to give her some made-up bullshit reply to 'elaborate', the waitress came back with our food.
Thank sweet baby Jesus, I live to see a few more minutes.
We dive into our food and eat in a comfortable silence. Well, comfortable for my mom, I was silently freaking out. I could feel my anxiety start bubbling up and I swallowed what was in my mouth and put my fork down. I took a deep breath trying to steady myself, my hand finding the back of my neck and rubbing gently.
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