Page 18 of Below the Far Horizon
There was a seductive, sexy tone in Don’s tone that made Grace blink. He was an old man, well, into his sixties, and there he was sounding sexy? So weird. Her mom was simpering like she heard that note, and it was working on her instead of grossing her out.
“And that was today?” Trevor said. Grace wasn’t sure, but there seemed to be a note of disbelief in his tone.
“Yes. We text, you know,” Gita said, lifting up her phone as though she needed to prove it.
“But we don’t send naked pictures,” Don said, and Grace felt relief and was also surprised at how quick she wanted to throw up.
She tried not to let either feeling show. After all, she was the one who made the sandwiches, and she wouldn’t want anyone to think the sandwiches were turning her stomach.
“All right. I’ll agree to be one of your chaperones, but I have to let you know that if you’re going to be sending naked pictures, you’re going to lose phone privileges.”
“I don’t think so,” Don started to say, and then his lips clamped closed as he glanced at Gita. “Yes. Actually, that’s exactly what you need to do. If you catch anything inappropriate, you definitely need to take my phone.”
Gita and Don exchanged a glance that Grace could not read. She moved her gaze to Trevor and could tell that he wasn’t quite buying things either. There was something fishy going on. But she couldn’t put her finger on it, and she wasn’t completely sure it wasn’t just the fact that her mother had a boyfriend, and that was making her feel weird.
“So, what made you two decide you wanted to be together?” Trevor asked, and he sent a glance at Grace that she couldn’t interpret. She thought maybe he was saying that they could ask some questions and try to trip them up and figure out what exactly was going on. But Grace wasn’t entirely sure that there would be any tripping up going on. After all, it wasn’t like the two of them were teenagers and trying to get away with anything. They flat-out asked them to chaperone them, and Don even said that if they found anything inappropriate in his phone, he wanted it to be taken away. So, it was only awkward because it was unexpected. Not because they were doing anything wrong.
Still, she understood what Trevor was probably feeling, and she could help him, even if she didn’t think that he was going to get anywhere.
“Yes, tell us your story,” she said.
“Last week?—”
“Two months ago?—”
Gita tilted her head and gave Don a look that could only be described as simpering. “Why don’t you tell them, darling?”
“As you wish, Gita Baby,” Don answered.
It was going to take her a very long time, probably a hundred years or more, to get used to hearing her mother called Gita Baby. She wanted to snatch the words from the air and shove them back in Don’s mouth. Her mother was not Gita Baby.
Except, Don was her boyfriend, and he could call her whatever he wanted to, and she seemed to like it. Which was really odd. What kind of normal person enjoyed being called Gita Baby?
“We’ve seen each other around the church. We said hi, we noticed each other. You know, the way things go sometimes. And then…” It looked like he puttered out and wasn’t quite sure what to say.
Her mom—Gita Baby—picked up the slack for him. “I admired his gorgeous facial hair. He just looks so dashing.”
“And I admired her…uh, armpits, uh, that didn’t have any hair,” Don said. Either he had a hard time giving compliments or a hard time thinking up lies on the spot.
“You also said you liked my smile, Donnie,” her mother said, andgood night, her mother actually batted her eyes like she was fifteen instead of sixty.
“I do. It’s gorgeous, Gita Baby.”
Maybe it was the way he said it, more than the name itself. It was almost like he added a sexy emphasis on “baby,” saying it in a deeper, sultry voice that reminded her of a stripper popping out of a cake. Not that she had ever seen such a thing.
Although, she did make a mental note to ask Trevor if his dad had ever popped out of a cake before. An affirmative answer could quite possibly shed some light on things.
She hated to be untrusting, but she had trouble with their answers. They seemed…contrived almost. Although, the nicknames were a nice touch. She and her husband had never had nicknames for each other. Maybe that was why their relationship was doomed from the start.
In her next relationship, she was going to have nicknames. That was a given.
“I’m simply tired of being alone,” her mother said, and that sounded honest. “We enjoy each other’s company, and we have a lot of fun together.”
“Gita Baby makes me laugh,” Don said, and they shared such atender glance that Grace almost felt like she was intruding and that maybe she should look away. “I haven’t laughed like I have with her in a really long time.”
“But if you guys aren’t comfortable being our chaperones—” Gita started, but then Don finished for her.
“Even though we raised you, paid for your food and shelter for the first eighteen or twenty years of your life, taught you not to defecate in public, gave you wisdom, and spent all of our spare time, money, and energy on you in order to give you a chance of succeeding in the world… You know, if you don’t feel like you can chaperone us, that’s totally up to you.”
