The Ways You Make Me Love [MXM]

Is It A Test?

"What are you two reading?" I asked them as I sat myself in front of Glenn and Freddie.

"The Stranger," Glenn closed the book they were sharing.

"Why did you stop reading?"

Freddie got out of his bean sack chair and crawled beside me. After putting the book back on the shelf beside him, Glenn followed his brother.

"Mommy," Freddie started, "can we go to Bronx?"

"Um," I tried to thought of why they wanted to go to Bronx of all places. "You two don't want to be in kindergarten?"

"Ah ha," Glenn shook his brown hair, "We want to quickly finish school and help daddy."

I was confused. I wondered, how did these two thought up of such goals? Although, I did want to support them.

"Well, why don't you two explore what you want to do first; and then decide if you still want to work with your daddy," I pecked each of their cheeks.

I knew they didn't understand why I suggested such a thing, but I hope that one day they will understand.

"Okay!" They agreed and then looked at each other, "but can we still go to Bronx?"

"I know you both are very bright, but why not start at kindergarten first?"

Then before they came to a census, Fredrick and his mother walked into Glenn and Freddie's playroom.

"You call this a playroom?" She glared at Fredrick with an sarcastically confused face. All Fredrick could do was slapped his own forehead.

Mrs. Wilson walked around me and the kids and to the bookshelves, "Why are you making your kids read such hard books when they're like 5?"

"Don't blame my daddy and mommy. We wanted to read those books, right Glenn?" In which Glenn quickly nodded in agreement.

"The Stranger? You even understand existentialism?" The woman turned to glare at me, but she quickly rolled her eyes, "Anyway, Diana, can I speak to you in private?"

"Diana?" I quietly whisper to myself. I got up and made eyes contact with Fredrick while following behind Mrs. Wilson. The guilt and embrassement peeled of his face.

Once we were in the garden and she sat on a chair around a table, she demanded, "Get me some coffee."

"Um, sure. How do you like it?"

"Three cups of French Vanilla and one sugar cube," she didn't even made eyes contact.

"No matter how different, I guess a son is like his mother," I smiled and went into the kitchen.

I quickly made a cup of coffee and walked back out to the garden, "Here's your coffee."

I sat beside her and she sipped the cup with a satisfied mood, "This is good coffee. You didn't get yourself one?"

"Oh, Fredrick won't let me have one," I tried to not look like an idiot for smiling too much.

"And you let him dictate you like that?"

"Oh, no. I'm pregnant and I prefer teas."

"How many months so far?" She eyeballed my nonexistent bump.

"Just five."

"Oh," she took another sip, "Diana, do you love my son?"

"Yes. I love Fredrick," I made sure I didn't hesitate even the slightest.

"Okay...but what if I say I don't approve you guys? You're too good for my son, Daniel," she emphasized the name she knew was mine.

"Ah, I don't see it that way. Fredrick has his own flaws but so do I," I felt the ring on my finger.