Page 142 of Ice Darling
“Isn’t this the place that rich couple from out of town rented for retreats?” I peer at the large windows and the massive wooden front door with the golden knocker.
“It sold last week,” Mom informs me.
Strange. There was no notice from the realtor’s office, and I tend to keep an eye on those listings. Did the new buyer negotiate with the seller privately?
I study my mother as she fusses with the shiny pin on her dress. “What are we doing here?”
“We’re meeting a friend,” Mom says, looking like she’s about to burst with excitement.
“Which friend?” I know all of Mom’s partners-in-crime. There’s Ms. Wilma from the embroidery club, Mrs. Tanner who owns a ranch with her husband, and then there’s Rebel’s mom, Mrs. Hart—the two ladies dye their hair at the same salon.
“A new friend.” Mom reaches over and smooths my collar. “Did you bring the flowers?”
“They’re here, Grandma!” Gordie chirps, lifting the bouquet from where they’d rested on the backseat.
“Wonderful!” Mom shuffles around in her purse. “Goodness, where’s my lipstick?”
“Why are you so nervous?” I laugh. “Are we meeting the Queen of England or something?”
“I’m not nervous. Who says I’m nervous?” Her words are muffled as she smothers a new coat of red paint over her lips.
Since she doesn’t want to admit it, I reach for the door so I can climb out.
“Wait!” Mom yells.
I whip around to look at her.
“Remember to smile, okay?”
“Smile? What am I smiling for?”
“And”—Mom squeezes her eyes shut—“for the love of all that is good”—she leans into my ear and hisses—“don’t say that you have no interest in getting married again.”
I frown in confusion. Why would that come up in tonight’s discussion?
“Gordie?”
“Yes, Grandma?”
“Let’s keep the talk about stars and hockey to a minimum, okay? We need to make a good impression.”
“Mom, who’s waiting for us inside that house?” I reel back in horror. “Is it a man?” An even more terrifying thought explodes in my brain. “Do you have a boyfriend?”
The thought of my mother dating again makes me break out in hives. Dad’s been gone for years now, but I can’t imagine her with anyone else.
Mom bursts out laughing. The sound of her high-pitched guffaws sends my blood pressure through the roof.
I continue interrogating her. “Did you meet him on a cruise?”
“Bwahaha!” Mom clutches her stomach and rolls back.
“Mom, I told you to be careful?” I raise my voice to be heard over her laughter. “Those slimy old guys aren’t any better than the ones my age?—”
To my surprise, Mom pats my cheek like I’m a toddler and coos, “My sweet, darling boy, you are so very oblivious. Now, let’s get going. We’re late.”
Mom hops out of the car and opens the back door to get Gordie down too. I jog to help them, even more stumped by the mystery.
“Alright. Here we go!” Mom swings Gordie’s hand back and forth as we walk past the fountain to the front door.
