Page 55 of Always a Roommate
I watched the way Lola reacted to him, how she’d known it was coming. The two of them knew each other so fully, so completely. I’d seen many couples get married in my career, and I could tell who was the real deal.
But I’d never seen it on this level before. I had no doubt this was the kind of love I’d described, the kind I didn’t see in my future.
And for the first time, I truly wanted it.
22
SHANE
The house looked good. Better than I remembered when I first decided to buy it. The owner was already gone, so I walked through the empty rooms as the inspector worked on the outside.
I could picture it, a life here. I’d spend evenings sitting on the lanai overlooking the pond, drinking coffee and grading papers.
In the morning, I’d wake up to the sounds of birds before enjoying breakfast at a real-life dining room table. I smiled, thinking of the stools in the house I shared with Rae. I hadn’t lived there long, but I’d grown used to them, fond of them.
But here, I could put a table big enough for my entire family when they came by. If they did. We tended to gather at my parents’ place.
The living room had large glass sliding doors that led out onto the lanai, and the view from where I would put the couch was astounding. I could watch hockey games while feeling less like I lived in a cave.
This was a Florida house.
So, why did all of these images suddenly feel so lonely?
“It’s beautiful.” Mom smiled as she walked back out of the bedroom. She’d insisted on coming to see it. “Not big, but big enough to grow a little in.”
I couldn’t afford anything bigger than this. Even the two-bedroom house was stretching my thin budget. I’d always been a saver, practical, so I had a sizable down payment, but it was still a big commitment.
“It’ll do.”
Mom looped her arm through mine. “Son, when you choose a house, you need to feel it. There’s no ‘it’ll do.’ It needs to be perfect.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the house.”
“No,” she agreed. “There isn’t. So, there must be something wrong with you.”
“Thanks for that.” I was not going to bare my soul to my mother, explain to her that the man who wasn’t sure he believed in love suddenly felt a pit in his stomach that stank suspiciously of loneliness. “Maybe I need a dog.” I’d said that more to myself than to her.
She looked at me, her lips pursed. I knew that look.
“Don’t try to analyze me, Mom.”
“It’s a mother’s prerogative. If you won’t tell me what’s going on, then I need to guess for myself. My son would never think of getting a dog.”
It was true I’d never had a pet, but I think I could quite enjoy it. Maybe. Oh, probably not. “Fine, I’m not getting a dog.”
She patted my arm. “Woman problems.”
“Please stop.”
My mom wasn’t a meddler exactly, she was just a very good judge of people, especially her children. She could read us like we were the latest Stephen King novel, and she only had to keep looking to figure out what was going on.
Advice was her thing, not manipulation, and I’d always been grateful for that.
“Why don’t we take a seat?” She gestured to the living room, where bamboo flooring stretched to the giant glass doors. But she didn’t stop, instead sliding the door open and stepping out onto the small lanai.
She lowered herself to the white cement floor and gazed up at the cage keeping animals and bugs away. “That will need cleaned.”
“I know.” I’d lived on my own long enough to know how to take care of a house, but I’d also known my mom long enough to understand she’d never see me as a fully developed adult. And I was okay with that, mostly. Her mothering wasn’t the worst thing.
