Noah murmured, and earned a punch of his own.
“But you sure are pretty, Mom. Isn’t she pretty?” He grabbed her hand and kissed it.
“You think that gets around me?”
He scooped up potatoes. “Yeah.”
And that’s what did it for Val. How could she hold back against a boy who so clearly loved his mother? She lifted a basket, offered it. “Have another roll, Noah.”
“Thanks.” This time when he smiled at her, she smiled back.
River's End
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I once dated a man who screamed bloody murder at his own mother in front of me — plus my own mother. When I broke that relationship off, my mom and I whispered what we both had long known to be true: “If he treats his mom like that, how will he treat other women?”
The answer: Terribly.
So on my second date with my now-husband, I told him straight-up — half out of self-preservation, half out of fear — “I’ve always said, if you want to know if a guy is safe to date, see how he treats his mom.”
“Is that so?” Pat replied with a smile.