Page 46 of Resist Me Not
“You look wonderful, sweetheart,” she says as she hangs onto our hug extra-long, since it has been a few months since I was able to visit.
The two-person table I purchased for my date with Walker is in transit to be added to Mother’s porch soon. I won’t mention it but will let it be a surprise.
She grabs my roller bag to pull it inside the house. I have long since learned to let her fuss and handle whatever she wishes, even if she hardly needs to bring in my luggage for me. “Are you sure you can only stay for a short visit, sweetheart?”
“I’m sorry, Mother, but I lingered a few extra days on my last assignment and need to get on to the next one by tomorrow.” It was worth those extra days to have courted Walker.
It’s a shame he took the photo I kept that belonged to Curtis, but although I sensed something was amiss and realized the truth on the way to the airport, I find myself trusting, foolishly perhaps, that he will do the right thing and stay loyal to me. I will learn whether I am right soon enough.
He should be with the detective right now.
“Well, at least I have you for the day,” Mother says, leaving my roller bag beside the stairs and continuing into the kitchen, knowing I will obediently follow. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
The house is an older two-story, two-bedroom home. Nothing fancy but with warm pastoral charm and immaculately kept just like Mother herself.
She never made me take on her meticulous habits, mind you. I did that on my own. She gave me free reign in most things and was always supportive of my decisions, from girlfriends to boyfriends to which college I went to. She didn’t have to cajole or manipulate the direction of my life because I willingly wouldhave always done my best to make her proud. And to keep her world safe.
The record player still sits in the living room, just like when I was a boy, and instead of having the radio on, she has a record playing softly as ambient background noise. She’ll often forget to flip it, forget it’s on when a side finishes, and leave the player running, stalled, for hours, only to do it all over again when she finally notices and flips the record or switches to a new one.
Right now, it is playing Johnny Cash.
“So, tell me how things went in the city,” she says as she gets a pair of mugs down from the cabinets to serve us coffee at the kitchen island, where I instinctively take a seat. “What kept you there so long?”
“Hello, hello!” I am interrupted by a familiar neighbor letting herself in through the sliding glass door. “Trey! I didn’t know you would be home.”
“Hello, Mrs. Sheridan.” I slide back off my stool to accept the hug from her I know is inevitable. She is a nice enough sort and adores me and my mother, just a bit of a busybody.
Not a killable offence.
“I’m only in for the day,” I inform her.
“Coffee, Vivienne?” Mother asks.
“Oh, no thank you, Lois,” Mrs. Sheridan dismisses, as I return to the island, and she follows but does not take a seat. “I wouldn’t want to intrude if you only have Trey for a short while. Although Trey, my daughter Violet is also home right now. She isn’t seeing anyone.” She bobs her eyebrows suggestively.
I am used to this from all of my mother’s neighbors. I have wisely never taken the bait. “Violet is lovely, Mrs. Sheridan, but not my type, I’m afraid.”
“My son isn’t seeing anyone either.”
I laugh. “I’m… actually seeing someone myself right now.”
My mother’s eyes snap to mine, which I anticipate, but she waits to say whatever must be bubbling beneath the surface of her feigned nonchalance.
“How wonderful!” Mrs. Sheridan replies amiably. “Their gain and my kids’ loss. They could only be so lucky as to snag a catch like you. I’ll leave you two be. I just popped in to remind you, Lois, of the food drive tomorrow, and to ask if you’d like to carpool. My new hatchback makes unloading a breeze!”
“That would be lovely, Vivienne, thank you. I’ll be over around nine.”
“Perfect! See you tomorrow. And don’t be a stranger, Trey.” She whirls around as swiftly and full of life as how she arrived and is out the sliding glass door into the backyard in moments.
Mother hands me my coffee and cradles hers with an eager lean over the island between us. “You’re seeing someone? Or was that just to get rid of Vivienne?”
“I am seeing someone.” I take a slow sip of coffee without elaboration.
“That was a fast turnaround from you telling me you weren’t not long ago.”
“The best surprises happen quickly.”
