The woman who stepped into the café had the same striking gray eyes and jet-black curls as Robbie, though hers were tied into a polished bun that whispered elegance. Where Robbie bore sharp masculine angles, she had an oval face with soft features and a luminous wheat-toned complexion. Petite, lean, and impeccably poised, she carried herself with an air of effortless sophistication. Her very presence seemed to hush the room.
Heads turned as she walked past. The contrast was jarring: a woman who could easily be mistaken for a high-profile model or an actress, gracefully poised yet radiating warmth. I found myself instinctively standing up, my pulse kicking up a notch. If Robbie hadn't already told me she was his mother, I'd have assumed she was his stylish older sister.
She looked barely in her early thirties.
Robbie was already on his feet, sweeping her into a tight hug.
"Mum, sorry to call you while you're swamped," he said, a rare boyishness in his voice.
"Don't be silly. I'll always make time for you," she said, kissing his cheek affectionately.
He pulled back, gesturing toward me, his hesitation sharp in contrast to his confidence moments before. "Mom, this is Tony. My…"
I stepped forward before his voice could crack on whatever label he was struggling with.
"Partner," I said, my voice more anxious than I'd like to admit.
She smiled so warmly it cut through my nerves. She reached out to shake my hand. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, son. Robbie talks about you all the time."
I shook her hand, trying not to let her poise make me feel like a crumpled paper napkin. "He's told me a lot about you, too."
"Has he now?" she said, chuckling lightly. Then her attention shifted to the small figure half-hiding behind me.
Twen.
Robbie's smile broadened as he turned slightly, hand outstretched toward our boy. "And this little guy is our son, Twen."
Twen shrank behind me a little more, gripping the back of my shirt.
She bent down, peering around me with gentle curiosity. "Hello there, Twen," she said softly.
He peeked up at her, his voice small and hesitant. "He-hello."
"How are you, sweetheart?"
"I'm fine," he muttered, eyes back to the floor.
She pouted playfully. "I must look like a scary old lady; you won't even look at me."
I nearly choked. Old?
This woman didn't look old enough to rent a car without ID, let alone be a grandmother.
Twen jerked his head up, stricken. "No! You're not scary, Aunty. I'm just… um..."
She laughed, the sound as light and warm as spring. "I'm just teasing, love. Forgive this silly aunty." She reached into her handbag and pulled out a carefully wrapped chocolate box. "Do you like chocolates?"
Twen looked at me, unsure, before I gave him a small nod. He turned back to her.
"I do."
She handed him the gift with a glowing smile. "Then this is for you, darling."
"Thank you!" His face lit up as he took the box from her.
She looked at me next, a little cautious. "I hope you don't mind, I couldn't show up empty-handed. It's our first meeting, after all."
I was taken aback. This woman was being humble over giving a gift to her own grandson.
"Of course not," I said, smiling. "He's your grandson. You can spoil him all you like."
Her smile deepened, and she reached out to pat my shoulder gently, as though my response had touched her more than I realized. She took a seat beside Robbie, who ordered her a cappuccino. Twen was already peeling open the chocolate wrapper with childish excitement, stuffing salted caramel into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days. I reminded him not to eat too much at once.
"Do you like it, dear?" she asked warmly.
"Yeah! It's yummy!" he replied, eyes bright.
"I heard from Robbie that you love to run," she said, sipping her coffee.
Twen paused, eyes flicking toward his dad. Robbie pretended to be absorbed in his drink. There was something tender and unsure in Twen's expression. But it passed, and he perked up.
"I do! I won three medals in this year's sports event!"
Her smile stretched across her face. "That's amazing! You must be lightning fast."
"I am! And Mommy took lots of pictures. He cheered really loud, too!"
"How about I come cheer for you next year with your mommy?"
Twen blinked in disbelief. "Really? You'll come watch me run?"
"Of course, darling. How could I miss my grandson's race?"
Twen turned to me with a grin that could light a room. "Mommy, Aunty said she'll come next year!"
I smiled, heart swelling. Twen wasn't exactly the most sociable kid; he was slow to warm up to strangers. But here he was, glowing with joy.
"And she's not your aunt," I said softly, brushing his bangs aside. "She's your grandma."
His smile faltered. My heart sank. Shit. Did I say it too soon?
He looked at me, then turned to her, then back to me, frowning slightly. The café went dead quiet for a beat. Robbie was trying to act unbothered, but I saw the tension in his jaw.
Twen whispered in confusion, "But… but she's so young. How can she be a grandma?"
We all froze for a second, then laughter erupted from the table. Relief and joy mixed together. Twen looked around, completely thrown by the reaction.
Mrs. Walker clutched her chest as she laughed. "How about you call me Granny Ash? That doesn't sound too old, right?"
Twen's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "Granny Ash is cool!"
We all smiled. Robbie slipped his hand into mine under the table. His mom's eyes shimmered just a little too much in the soft lighting.
She turned to me.
"Tony… thank you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I've heard everything from Robbie. You're incredibly brave. And it's because of your courage that I get to meet this little miracle today."
I didn't know how to respond. Brave for choosing to raise a child born of trauma? I never saw it as bravery, just a refusal to destroy something innocent because of someone else's cruelty.
"You don't need to thank me, ma'am—"
"Mom," she cut in gently.
I blinked. "Excuse me?"
She smiled. "Call me Mom. Whether you become my son-in-law or not… through Twen, we are already a family. And I'm as much your mother as I am Robbie's. So, please… call me Mom."