“You’ve been helping at the diner six days a week for the past three months, Pauline. You deserve a break,” Mom added, sipping her wine.
I blinked. “Okay… but are you dying? Are we closing down? Is Gordon Ramsay coming?”
“No,” Dad said with a grin. “We’re just… not monsters. Take the day off. Go out with your friends. Or even better…” He wiggled his eyebrows. “A boyfriend, maybe?”
I snorted. Then immediately choked on my water.
Dad started laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.
“Oh my god,” I croaked between coughs. “No. Thank god, no.”
“Hey,” Mom said with mock offense. “We’re not that anti-boyfriend. You’re a woman. You’re allowed to have someone who buys you flowers and steals the covers.”
“I have Mew,” I replied, pointing under the table. “She sheds everywhere and hog
