Page 12 of On the Fly
This moment eased his worried heart like nothing else could. Every childhood memory he cherished had been created by this woman. Image after image of happy times filled his head as he took the stairs up to greet her. He had wanted her happy. That was the primary reason he’d agreed to come out and attempt to save Rora Airlines. He’d do just about anything his mom asked of him. But it seemed she had found her groove.
“Mom,” he said, taking the last step up.
She looked up, surprise crossing her face before she broke into a huge grin. “Ander!”
The man she spoke with was seemingly forgotten as she focused all her attention on Ander. Her grin grew as she stretched out her arms, then enveloped him in a giant hug, the clipboard digging into his shoulder as he took her in his arms.
“My number one is finally home. It’s been too long.”
His gaze landed on the man who had been talking with her, and the world zoomed back into focus. He released his mom who held on a little longer.
“Who are all these people?” he asked, now just kind of bent over with his mom hugging his neck, refusing to let him go just yet.
“Tom, meet my oldest son, Ander,” she said, but still didn’t release him, merely leaned back enough to put maybe six inches between his nose and hers with her arms casually draped around his neck. “Looking at you makes me feel old.”
He stood to his full height. The extra five or so inches he had on her forced her to break her hold around his neck. He eyed the guy who nodded a hello and smiled, before looking around at all the activity in the yard.
“What’s going on here?”
“Oh, we’re a bit behind. The family’s due here within the hour.” His mother jumped into action as if charged by an electrical wire, leaving him there as she went back to her discussion with Tom. “These tables need to be removed Saturday night and replaced with the chairs in the usual formation.”
“Got it, Mrs. Jorgensen. I’ll have the arch here Sunday morning.”
“Did the florist call you?”
“Yes, ma’am. We coordinated times. Everything should be ready by one o’clock.”
“Perfect, Tom. Thank you.” She wrote quickly on her clipboard as Tom nodded at him again then loped down the front porch steps.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
“Come inside. Let’s talk in there.” She stopped mid-step to look toward his car. “Didn’t I ask you to pull to the back entrance?”
“Mom,” he said, some of his teenage exasperation bleeding though in his tone, which he didn’t appreciate at all. With a long line of questions forming by the second, the placement of his vehicle fell to the bottom of the list of concerns.
“Mom,” she mimicked his tone, smiling and rolling her eyes. “Come inside with me.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along behind her.
He had to break her hold when he moved aside to let two women carrying heavy looking planters pass by. His mother stopped in the entry at a tallish ornate cabinet piece. While it fit the style of the entry, the furniture seemed a little out of place. She bent, placing her clipboard on the small ledge, and finished her notes. Only then did he get a good look around. Other things had changed too. He walked the length of the grand foyer to the attached living room, which had been set up with four to five sitting areas.
“Honey, you’re early, but I’m sure glad to see you.” Her warm hand caressed his back until she circled his waist, drawing him in for a side hug.
“I’m on time. We agreed on an early dinner at four,” he said as he continued to stare around the room at all the changes.
“What? I thought you were coming to spend the night.” She rounded on him, fisting her hands on her hips as she threw off all kinds of accusation with her tone.
“I can’t, Mom. Remember?” They’d had this whole conversation on the phone just a few hours ago. He’d worry about her mental recall if she hadn’t always been that way. And it looked like she had quite a bit to preoccupy her as well.
“I guess not. Things have been so busy it’s hard to keep it all together. Your brother’s putting my schedule on the computer. Come this way. The guests are due to arrive soon, but I’ll get Gina to handle these last details. Have you seen her yet?” His mother patted his arm and waved him to follow her toward the kitchen.
“I don’t think so.” Ander trailed after her again. More and more, slight changes caught his attention. Places where family pictures had hung were now filled with period pieces dating to when the house was originally built.
A woman came through from the kitchen, but he barely spared her a glance until she stopped beside them, wiping her hands on the towel tucked in the waist of her apron. “Well, Ander, young man, you’ve sure gotten tall since I last saw you. Or maybe I’m shorter.” The woman laughed heartily, just like he remembered her from when she used to babysit him and his younger siblings when they lived out here. “I’ve sure heard all about your exploits and how you’ve been doing. I’m proud of you.” She patted his arm and turned her attention to his mom. “I’ve got this, Mrs. Jorgensen. I made fresh tea. Grab some.”
“Good idea,” she said, turning into the kitchen. Ander followed her into yet another room where everything was different. She’d had the kitchen updated to compete with any modern-day restaurant, able to no doubt feed massive amounts of people. When had she done all this remodeling?
“Tell me what I’m missing,” he said, stopping in the middle of the room.
“Well, we have a wedding this weekend,” she said over her shoulder. “Tea or coffee?”
