Page 111 of Saints & Sailors

Scott was in a T-shirt and jeans and my mother was in a striped top and shorts. She was sitting there nervously, while Scott was relaxed beside her. Almost like this was a normal occurrence for him.

I hadn’t seen my mother in a month, and while I was happy she was here, this was still quite a way to be reunited. Like him or not, she was married to Richard. And even he didn’t deserve this.

In a way, though, I got it. Or, at least a part of me did. Richard was straitlaced, upper crest and snobby, and he wore suits and ties. Scott breathed music, had rough hands from hard work, and tattoos. He was nothing like the men back home. I mean, it was an obvious choice. But right was right and wrong was wrong.

“What the hell is Richard going to think, Mom?” I asked, gesturing between the two of them.

My mother peered down at the floor, her shoulders sagging. Scott placed his hand on her knee to show his support.

In another moment, my mother looked up at me and frowned. “I filed for divorce two weeks ago.”

“Holy shit.” I hadn’t seen that coming.

Scott sighed. “Saylor⁠—”

“Why don’t we talk about this back at my motel room?” My mother stood up, looking between Scott and me. She softened a little as her eyes lingered on Scott. “There’s a lot I should talk to her about. Again, I’m sorry for just dropping by on you at your job out of nowhere. I should’ve called instead of being impulsive.”

Scott stood as well, towering over my mother as he gazed down at her. “Don’t. I don’t mind.” He peered at me and scratched his head. “You should talk.”

It was a lot to absorb. My mother was in Meadow Grove. She’d hooked up with Scott. And she was getting a divorce. The energy between my mother and Scott couldn’t be missed. It was thick, hazy, and even with me in the room, they couldn’t stop sneaking glances at each other.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I finally spoke, needing to get out of the house to process things.

My mother was behind me as I took the lead to the front door. I grabbed the knob and pulled it open, almost walking smack-dab into Dreux who was on the other side. He’d been about to knock, his fist raised.

“Hey…” His words trailed to a stop as I stepped outside past him with my mother.

In the midst of the chaos, I’d forgotten about Dreux.

But one thing at a time.

“This is my mom. Mom, this is my friend Dreux.” I did a quick sweep from each of them. I could barely look at Dreux as I took off down the steps. “I’ve gotta go.”

My mother went around to the driver’s side of the Jetta and I was quick to climb into the passenger seat. I buckled in and watched as Dreux slowly descended our porch steps and headed back to his house. He stole a look my way, worry written across his face.

“He’s cute,” my mother spoke up.

I closed my eyes and swore beneath my breath. So. Fucked.

There was only one motel in town. Meadow Grove Inn. A single-story establishment complete with a pool and free breakfast, according to the sign out front.

My mother was staying in Room 7. Her suitcase was still in the doorway when she let us in, as if she’d sought Scott out immediately.

“I’m going to take a shower,” my mother said before she grabbed a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

The room was small and cozy, with the queen-sized bed taking up most of the space. On one side of the bed was a little round coffee table with two chairs for sitting. Across from the bed, a large TV was mounted on the wall above a dresser. There was a desk and a mini fridge as well, providing my mother with just enough to make this getaway work.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, thinking about how I still needed to shower.

It was hard to believe it was only an hour ago that things were taking a turn for Dreux and me.

Touching my lips, I could still remember the feel of Dreux’s kiss. The way he cradled my face when I finished. He’d stared at me for all of a moment before coming down and kissing me until I couldn’t think straight.

We definitely couldn’t be friends after this.

I wanted to text him, but I wasn’t sure what to say or even where to start.

Thankfully, Dreux went on the backburner as my mother stepped out of the bathroom. She was freshly changed and toweling off her hair as she padded closer.