I throw on a fresh sweater from my laundry pile and make my way down the stairs. Mom is in her robe, yawning by the kitchen sink.
I hope she’s feeling okay.
“Sleep okay last night?” I ask, meandering around the living room’s open-concept space. Mom turns to me with a smile, lifting her arm to beckon me over. My feet shuffle a little faster at her movement, and I tuck myself under her arm giving her a cozy side hug, mindful of the hot tea in her other hand.
“I stayed up later than I planned, trying to finish my fantasy book. If men in the real world had the same kind of chivalry, then maybe I could have found someone after your?—”
“Mom.” I hold up a hand to stop her. It was too early to compare fictional men, and I had not had my coffee yet. I was not a talker before coffee.
Mom shakes her head at me and rolls her eyes, her silken hair swishing against her shoulders at the movement. At one point she had hair like mine, long and golden, but with age her hair changed to an ashy blonde, a few streaks of light grey framing her face. It almost looked intentional. She was beautiful, inside and out.
“I looked over the budget for next month and we mighthave enough to have someone fix the AC unit before it craps out like it did last year,” I note, opening the fridge and digging around for bagels and cream cheese. I hear Mom’s sigh from inside the fridge.
“You don’t want to talk about chivalry at eight in the morning? Well I don’t want to talk about budgets.” She raises an eyebrow at me, daring me to continue. We didn’t have a lot, but then again, we weren’t big spenders.
“Deal,” I say, popping bagels into the toaster and pouring myself a coffee.
“So how’s your tutoring looking for the summer? I assume it can’t be that busy,” she asks as she wanders to the living room area, sinking deep into her favourite armchair.
“It’s not overly busy, just a few students doing spring courses or prepping for their fall courses. I’ll be TA-ing in that intro psychology class again this year for Professor Clement, but that’s not ‘till the fall. He’s a bit of a hard ass but I think it’ll be fine.”
“I just don’t want you to overdo it this year, it’s the last one before medical school and I don’t want you stressed out.” She looks over at me, concern written across her features. Her anxiety is made obvious by the way her index finger continuously taps her mug.
I placate her with a reassuring smile, “I’ll be okay Mom. It’s not crazy. What’s crazy is this goose chase Delaney has put me on.” I smear cream cheese across our bagels vigorously.
“Didn’t she only suggest you try dating?” Mom asks innocently, as if she’s not totally aware of Delaney’s dramatics.
“Well, yes,” I begin, but Mom cuts me off.
“And is it not yourplan to make it into some sort of experiment? Didn’t you make a list?” She stares me down, and I swear the woman looks right into my soul when she does that.
I sigh and carry our plates over, flopping myself down into the armchair across from her.
“I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all. Sometimes it may start off being one thing, but then it leads to another. I don’t want you to be surprised if it doesn’t turn out the way you want it to, that’s all,” Mom says softly, in her most motherly voice, and damn if that isn’t the hardest thing to disagree with.
“All right, I’ll keep my wits about me. It’s not like I’m looking for love or anything. It’s just a science experiment,” I say, balancing my plate on the arm of the chair while looking over our scrabble board nestled between us. Only a few words added from where we left off yesterday.
“Whatever you say, my love,” Mom says as she lays down her letters, spelling out “forelsket”.
My brow furrows and I glance questioningly up at her.
“Do you want to Google it?” She arches an eyebrow, daring me to go against her word. I hold up my hands in defence.
“Nope, I trust you. If you say that’s a word, I believe you.” I chuckle, laying down my own
word attaching it downward from hers: Search.
FOUR
Double Double
Dominic
A few weeksgo by without Hoot coming into Biblio & Brew. That’s okay, I can play the long game. Summer has only just begun. It’s warm but not too hot outside yet, so I don’t have a lot to do with most students off campus for the break. The few people that are here are outside soaking up the sunshine. It’s nice actually. I get to read a lot in all the down time. I pull out my newest book,What an Owl Knows.I’m not sure why, but this particular book seemed to jump out at me from the shelf.
I pour over the interesting facts on owls. I absorb everything from their different types of feathers to their keen sense of hearing and sight. Just as I’m about to dive into a bit about binocular vision, a flash of tan fabric steals my attention. Toward the back of the cafe, I see her. She’s unmissable. Hoot’s arm stretches in the confinements of a light tan trench coat,aiming for a book that is clearly out of her reach. I observe in amusement for a moment before deciding to help end her struggle, but someone beats me to it. My eyes snag on a tall blonde dude sauntering towards her.
I can practically smell his ego from here.
