Page 19 of The Good Luck Cafe
“I never did like Denise,” his mom said with a head shake.
“That’s saying a lot since you like everyone.”
Gil’s mom looked at him. “Not her. She was awful to you when you were running for class president in high school. Don’t you remember how badly she behaved?”
Gil choked on a laugh. “Of course I do. She made just as many signs about me as she did about herself.” And the signs about Gil had been full of half-truths and embarrassing photos. One of her minions had snapped a peripheral picture of him scratching his nose, and the photo had labeled him a nose picker. It was mortifying and demeaning, but he’d done his best to be a good sport, tapping the side of his nose good-naturedly whenever anyone had tried to rib him.
“Principal Russo finally put an end to her defamation of me,” Gil said, “but not before I was teased mercilessly.” That’s when Gil’s friends had started calling him Gilbert, because all of Denise’s posters against him had a slogan:GILBERT NOSE BEST, BUT DENISE IS THE (WO)MAN FOR THE JOB.It was childish, but they were technically still kids back then. “Hopefully, Denise has done a lot of maturing in the years since our high school election.”
His mom put down her wooden spoon and turned toward him, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can’t allow her to treat you that way this time. This is your career. You’re a good mayor, and I won’t have that woman making up stories about you. Want me to talk to her mom?”
Gil thought maybe his mother was joking at first, but her expression was serious. “Mom, I don’t need you talking to Mrs. Berger about her daughter’s political tactics. I’m just hoping that, since we’re adults, Denise will behave as a grown-up in this election.”
His mom scoffed. “You always were the optimist.”
“I get it from you,” he accused.
“And it’s why you are a good mayor. There’s too much negativity out there. I know Somerset Lake is just a small corner of the earth, but you make the world a better place.”
Gil knew his mom was a little partial, but he appreciated the sentiment. “Thanks, Mom. If it eases your mind at all, Denise joined the town council a couple months ago and she’s been more than civil to me. She didn’t mention that she had her sights set on my position, however.”
“Well, she does and I don’t trust her.”
Gil didn’t either. “So, what are you cooking over there anyway? It’s making me hungry.”
“Vegetable stew.”
Gil got up from his stool and walked to where his mom was standing. He glanced at the stovetop from over her shoulder, eying the array of potatoes, sliced carrots, and beans floating in a tomato base. “What can I do to help?”
His mom looked at him. “Beat Denise Berger.”
“I’ll do my best.”
She nodded and then tipped her head toward the cabinet to his right. “Do you mind getting out three bowls?”
“Sure.” Gil opened the cabinet where the dishes were held, and pulled down three soup bowls.
“There’s something else I need your help with,” his mom said as she reached for a ladle on the countertop. Her hesitation got Gil’s attention.
“Oh? What is that?”
She pressed her lips together as if she didn’t want to say what was on her mind. “I’m a bit concerned about Doug.”
Gil laid the bowls on the counter for her to start serving the soup into. “Because of the whole nine-one-one incident?”
“Partly for that reason. He has it in his head that he’s ready to move out on his own.” She stopped stirring the pot and turned to face him, her expression strained.
Gil wasn’t exactly surprised by this news. “Okay. I had moved out by the time I was twenty-one.”
“Yes, but that was different. Doug isn’t ready to move out,” his mother said. “He may never be ready to leave this house.”
Gil frowned. “A lot of people with Down syndrome live on their own. It depends on the individual, of course. Just like with anyone else, there’s a wide spectrum of abilities. For the most part, Doug is as independent as I am.”
His mother sighed. “This isn’t a debate, Gil. I need you to back me up on this. I want you to talk to Doug and tell him that he can’t move out. He has to stay here, where he belongs.”
***
After looking everywhere for her mom, Moira finally circled back to her parents’ house and found her mom’s car in the driveway. She got out of her own vehicle and headed up the porch steps, when she heard her mom call to her from the back porch.
