"Honey, a good Momma knows when her boy is smitten," His mother said with her southern drawl. She'd moved to Arizona when she learned she was pregnant, 23 years ago, though she was never able to shake the Texan accent.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. But, he couldn't keep his fingers still under the table. She was talking about Lonnie, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to tell his own mother.

"Baby, why do you still lie to me?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but he could hear it crack. He opened his mouth to spit out another lie, but no words came out. What kind of person can lie to the woman that uprooted her entire life to make sure her child lived the best life possible? What kind of person brings their own mother to tears because of the need to lie? What kind of person?

"Momma, I-" He started, but was interrupted.

"Sweetheart, you know how I know you're lying?"

"I should go." he said. The woman sat in front of him only shut her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

All he could do was take a sharp breath and stand up. He reached the front door and one last time looked at his mother's bowed head and clasped hands.

"Momma," He said, "I love you."

"With all my heart," She replied, not looking up.

"All my heart." He said.

He left.