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I open the door a little more and lean forward again, almost falling out of my bedroom now. Okay, they sound like they’re downstairs directly below me. If I had to guess, I’d say they’re standing in between the staircase and the front door. I picture my mom with her arms crossed over her sizable chest, while Mason lounges with his hands in the pockets of his jeans in that effortlessly cool way of his.
“I hope you don’t take this too personally,” my mom says in a contrite tone. “It’s just that our interests have diverged, Mason. You want what you want, and I want what I want, and they’re not the same at all. We’re like two trains passing in the night.”
Wow, talk about being vague about her reasons. But Mason doesn’t sound too put out.
“Mm,” comes his low growl. It’s not quite a sound of agreement or disagreement, but Rose continues in a sorrowful tone.
“Plus, I’m sorry that I’m doing this to you just an hour before you’re due back at the station. I know it can’t be easy to fight fires when you’re trying to emotionally process a new break-up. It’s going to be hard, but I know you can do it.”
Mason lets out a long exhale and I can almost imagine him rolling his eyes.
“Don’t worry about it, Rosanne,” he growls in a low tone. “These things happen and I don’t blame you for going your own way. By the way, how long have you been thinking about breaking up?”
Rosanne lets out a breathy sigh.
“I don’t know. A while. I swear, it’s me and not you, and I’ve been trying to come to terms with it myself internally. It’s been hard!”
Wow, my mom really is great at the self-pity and obviously, Mason feels the same because he just grunts before stating, “It’s fine. It’s for the better and I don’t hold it against you.” But then he shifts gears. “Do you mind if I take one last shower at the house before heading out for my shift?” he asked. “They still haven’t fixed the hot water at the station and I hate being dunked in a cold spray.”
“Oh of course, I don’t mind at all,” my mom says quickly. “It’s the least I can do. Take your time, and I have that wonderful shampoo from France you should try!”
I doubt Mason will be using my mom’s fancy lavender shampoo, but he merely grunts. “Appreciate it. Take care, Rose. I’ll let myself out after I’m done.” Then, I hear his heavy footfalls come up the stairs and quickly, I dart back into my room before shutting the door quietly. Oh god, I hope he didn’t see me! My heart flutters as my cheeks heat, but his footsteps pass my bedroom and then head into our small bathroom. Not moments later, my mom knocks and my heart-rate goes into hyperdrive all over again. Oh shit!
Quickly, I slide into my desk chair and pretend to be looking at my history book, which is conveniently open. Seconds later, my mom opens my door and I turn to look at her, feigning what I hope is a convincing look of disinterest.
“Hey Mom, what’s up?”
As always, I’m impressed by the sight of Rosanne because my mom really lucked out in the genes department. Even at forty, she’s a knock-out in a pin-up girl kind of way. Rose has platinum blonde hair, naturally pink lips, and the complexion of an English rose. Not only that, but she’s buxom with lush breasts, wide hips, and a narrow waist. To be honest, I sort-of resemble her because we both have generous figures, except that I have mud-brown eyes and coffee-colored hair, instead of her flaxen locks and sparkling azure gaze.
But right now, Rose looks happy.
“Hi honey,” she burbles, “I’m glad to see you studying so hard. Senior year is challenging, hmm? But just hang tight because graduation is right around the corner and I know you’ll do well.”
“Thanks Mom,” I smile wanly. “Um, is there anything you need?”
She shakes her head.
“Oh no, just checking on you. I’m heading out to do some errands, so is there anything you want from the store?”
I shake my head, trying to look like I didn’t just overhear her exchange with Mason.
“No, I’m good thanks.”
She nods.
“Okay, then study hard, sweetheart. Oh by the way, Mason’s using our shower right now,” she says, gesturing with her head down the hall. “He’ll leave as soon as he’s done, but otherwise you’re fine, right?”
I nod.
“Yeah, absolutely.”
She nods and winks at me. I expect her to disappear, but my mom does something really weird then. She’s dressed in a floor-length duster which is like a super long cardigan that goes all the way to the knees. But then she flips her hair over one shoulder and undoes the sash before shimmying out of the duster, letting the fabric drop to the ground.
