Page 40 of The Mouse and the Maestro

“Tell me what a no-goodnik is,” he said, and she smiled.

“Don’t be one, and you’ll never have to find out.” She faced the house, her smile dimming slightly. “I’m a little nervous to meet your family.”

“They’re nice, I promise,” he said.

“It’s not them; it’s me. I’m not so great at meeting new people.”

“Did you bring your pepper spray?” he asked.

“Of course not,” she said.

“Then I’m sure it will be fine,” he said.

“No, it probably won’t. I hear normal words in my head, but then social anxiety steps in and says, ‘Not today, human. Let’s be weird instead,’ and what ends up coming out is a bunch of mixedup words and phrases that make no rational sense. Or, worse, I come off as mean or uptight, and I’m neither of those things.”

He took her hand in both his and began smoothing his palm over it in a relaxing manner. “What would help, Jane?”

“Not having the expectation to speak until I’m ready, until I’ve warmed up. Being put on the spot triggers an uncontrollable anxiety response.”

“What if I could guarantee it won’t be a problem for you not to talk until you’re ready?”

“That’s not possible,” Jane said.

“Oh, but it is,” Blue countered.

“How?” she asked.

“You’ll see.” He let her hand go and opened his door. Reluctantly, she opened her door and tagged behind.

Chapter 19

An hour in, and Jane hadn’t said a word. And nobody noticed. Blue’s mother, however, hadn’t stopped talking since they arrived.

“Oh, my goodness, Jane, so nice to meet you. Are you really a doctor? What am I saying, of course you are. Women can be those now; women can be anything. Although I’m not sure what the difference is between an archeologist and an anthropologist. What is the difference? I’d really like to know. Anyway, you can use this room right down the hall. It hasn’t been used in years because everyone we know lives local so we don’t get a lot of company who stay over night. Blue will stay in his old room, of course. We left it as it was, not as some sort of monument, but more out of laziness. My husband works odd hours, I’m sure Blue’s told you, and the last thing he wants to do when he gets home is a house project. Not that I’m complaining because I’m not, and I’m sort of not into house stuff myself, unless I get some random idea while watching HGTV. For a while, I wanted to shiplap everything, and then I realized how much work that was and gave up. Do you have shiplap in your house? Although you probably don’t have a house, living in DC. Philly is more suburban, I think. It seems like everything in DCis citified, and I can’t get used to those tall townhomes. I’m glad Blue doesn’t live in one of those. So many stairs, and why would anyone want a kitchen on a separate level than your seating area? Although I do worry what would happen if the electric ever went out, being on the top floor and all. He’s probably got a plan for that, I try not to interfere…”

She continued talking, almost without breathing. Behind her back, Blue made eye contact and smiled as if to say, “See, I told you.”

When there was a pause in the one-sided conversation, Jane opened her mouth to say thank you or even hello, but his mother resumed talking.

“Have you met Tad yet? What am I saying, of course you haven’t. He’ll be here later for supper. Are you hungry? Have you eaten? Well, it doesn’t matter, I’m serving supper nonetheless. I made Blue’s favorites because I so rarely get him home for supper, not that I’m complaining. Who am I kidding, of course I am. Come home once in a while, kiddo,” she paused to tap Blue’s cheek before continuing. “Anyway, I think you’re really going to like Tad. He’s such a sweet, gentle…” she walked out of the room, still talking. Blue closed the door behind her and leaned on it.

“Isn’t she going to notice we’re no longer there?” Jane asked.

“Once when I was seven, she left me at a gas station and it took her two hours to notice. And another time my brother and I had a wager going about how long we could go without saying a word before she noticed. We both gave up after three days of not talking.”

“Wow,” Jane said.

“In her defense, she’s on a break from work. On school days, she’s gets all the chattiness out in the classroom. And she teaches first grade, so it’s sort of imperative she talk all day.”

“You don’t need to defend her to me. I think she seems lovely,” Jane said. The talking was a bit incessant, but otherwiseshe seemed like a warm, genuine person. Her eyes traveled around the room, his room. “So, the inner sanctum.”

“It’s about time I had a girl in here, although I think some people I went to high school with probably would have had bets on it being after I turned thirty,” he said.

“I can’t be the first girl who has ever been in your room,” Jane said.

He nodded. “Sadly, yes.”

“That reminds me. You still owe me a viewing of your middle school picture,” she said.

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