“Hold on,” I say. She turns around. “Aren’t I coming with you?”
She blinks. “Really? You were serious?”
I nod firmly. “I’m a man of my word. Besides, if I don’t come of my own free will, I’ll probably end up there somehow. No way to avoid it.”
She studies me for a moment, then laughs. “Fine. You can come. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I wiggle my eyebrows. “I like living dangerously.”
Casting me onelast glance, she disappears into her flat, and I lean back against the hallway wall. Despite my aching body, I’m suddenly as energised as those minutes leading up to a football match.
Chapter 14
“You’re a real bundle of joy, aren’t you?"
Kat
I can’t believe I’m about to walk through my mum’s front door with Archie by my side. Oh, she’s going to bedelighted.Mum has been bugging me about meeting men since Greg and I broke up. Come to think of it, maybe this wasn’t such a brilliant idea.
“Are you okay?” Archie asks.
Granted, we’ve been standing on the porch for a few seconds now, and I haven’t rung the bell yet.
“Yeah. Get ready for a show.” I shake my head dramatically, pushing the bell.
“Oh, I am.” He winks.
In the end, I decide it’s a good thing he’s here. He’ll be a nice distraction.
The door swings open, and my mum appears on the threshold. She’s draped in way too many shawls for one woman. A rainbow of gauzy fabrics flutter around her like she’s stepped out of a commercial for healing crystals, and her eyes instantly set on Archie. While he was driving us here, I texted her that I was bringing someone.
“You are just gorgeous. So nice to meet you, Archie.” She offers her hand, the silver bangles on her wrist jingling like wind chimes. “I’m Gillian—but please call me Gilly. I hate that name.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, Gilly,” Archie says, kissing her hand, and my mum beams.
“Hi, darling,” she adds, giving me air kisses on both cheeks. “Come on in, you two.”
I glance pointedly at Archie. “Told you.”
He just smiles before following the trail of my mother’s patchouli perfume. We enter her townhouse—her sanctuary, as she calls it—and the scents of incense and burning sage already tickle my nose. Archie’s eyes are roving over the macramé wall hangings and the fringe rugs that make the hardwood floors look like a kaleidoscope exploded on them. But he doesn’t comment.
We reach the dining room, where a bald man is standing, a smile on his face.
“Kids,” mum says, gliding over to him. “This is Oscar. Oscar, the kids. Katherine and Archie. Archie is Katherine’s—”
“Neighbour,” I interject quickly before my mum sticks him with a label we can’t peel off. “Nice to meet you, Oscar.”
Archie and Oscar shake hands, and I instantly like the guy. He seems down to earth, a quality my mother terribly lacks.
“Something to drink?” she asks, adjusting her long pink shawl that keeps slipping off one shoulder. “I have a full bar.”
“Nothing with alcohol for me,” Archie says. “I’m driving, and the season starts in a few days.”
“Season?” Mum flutters her eyelashes as she turns around. “Are you an athlete?”
“Mum, drinks,” I cut in. “I’ll have an iced tea.”
“That sounds perfect. Me too,” Archie adds, smiling.
