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Jameson
I’ve spent every free, waking moment with Millie for the last three weeks. Seth and Colby keep sending me texts, claiming that I’ve abandoned them. They’re throwing phrases like “bro code” in my face. Things I haven’t heard since high school.
What can I say? I’m a man in love. I’m constantly having to hold back my feelings for her because I don’t want to scare her and send her running for the hills. Just a month ago, she was bound and determined to live her entire life in solitude. Our relationship is a big change of direction for her, so I’m taking it slower than I want to. I want to marry the woman tomorrow and take care of her for the rest of her life, but that’s the exact opposite of taking it slow.
When I’m not with Millie or working, I’m still spending my time trying to figure out who’s stalking me and parking outside Millie’s house in the middle of the night. I went out one night with my flashlight and a weapon. They drove away and haven’t come back since. Unfortunately, the car’s plates are from Kansas and registered to someone I’ve never heard of.
I don’t know how long this will go on, but I’ve now got the local PD working on it in addition to my friend at the sheriff’s department. There’s not a whole lot to go on. We can’t go to random people’s houses and accuse them of stalking and threatening me without evidence that it’s actually them.
I’ve been scared to be out in public with friends and family. I don’t want this person to see them with me and use them to get to me. It’s especially dangerous for Millie since they’ll know she lives next door to me. I hate that they know where I live. I hate that they probably already know that she means something to me. I hate all of this.
I close my computer and walk up to the counter of the coffee shop to get a refill before I head out to my mom’s house. Millie and Lo are meeting me there for lunch. Yet another thing for Seth and Colby to rag on me for. Mama used to invite them over for lunches and dinners all the time, but now it’s Millie and Lo.
In reality, they were just over at Nana and Pops’ house last Sunday to watch the football game. They’re just sore that they have to “share custody” of me with Millie now.
Millie’s car is already in the driveway when I pull up in front of my mom’s house, so I chug my coffee and run inside, hoping that Mama isn’t pestering Millie for information about our future plans. News flash! There are no future plans because she’d most likely run screaming for the hills if I were to even hint at life-long commitment.
The sight I’m met with, however, is vastly different from what I imagined. All three women are in the kitchen, wearing aprons, cooking away, and belting it out to a Journey song. Millie is using a wooden spoon as her microphone. Thank goodness it’s not a real microphone. That voice doesn’t need to be any louder than it already is.
When the song ends, I clap, and all three women jump in surprise to find me standing in the doorway. I go to Millie’s side and land a kiss on her cheek.
We all hear the front door open and shut and turn to see a man walking toward us. It’s Greg, the man Mama’s been dating for the last month. I shake his hand and then shove my hands into my pockets.
“Jameson, you know Greg, of course,” Mama says as she bounces around on the balls of her feet. I nod my head, and she goes on to say, “Well, we’re getting married!” She pulls a ginormous ring out of her pocket, places it on her finger, and waves her hand around so that no one can actually get a good look at the thing.
Greg wraps his arm around Mama’s waist and plants a firm kiss on her cheek. They gaze at each other with huge smiling faces.
Millie grabs Mama’s hand and holds it still in front of her face. “Holy cow, this is a rock! Lo, come look at the size of this thing!” Lo goes over and gapes at the diamond on my mom’s finger.
Greg is a family doctor here in town. He’s had his very successful practice for twenty years. He can afford to spoil her, and it appears that he is enjoying doing it. However, it seems entirely too soon for an engagement.
“Mama, can I talk to you in the other room?” I ask, and I give Greg a sheepish look. I don’t want to rain on their parade, but someone should point out the fact that they’ve only been dating for a month.
“Go ahead and say it, Jameson. We both know it’s coming,” Mama says and crosses her arms across her chest.
“Okay,” I say and take a deep breath. I don’t want to do this with an audience. “Don’t you think you’re moving too fast? It’s only been a month. How well do you really know him? He could be an axe murderer—no offense,” I say and look at Greg standing next to Mama.
“None taken,” he says and waves a hand in front of him. Mama whacks him in the stomach. They should take a lesson from me and Millie. Sure, we spend a lot of time together, but we’re talking and getting to know each other. Granted, it’s only because of Millie. Perhaps, I’m being a tad bit hypocritical.
“Jameson, I’ve known Greg since high school. If he were going around murdering people, I think we’d all know by now,” Mama says with a roll of her eyes. “The truth is, I’ve been halfway in love with the man for years, and I decided to finally go for it. He’s the best decision I’ve ever made besides you, and I’m not holding back anymore.”
I hear Millie sniffling next to me and look over to see tears pouring down her face. She sees me watching her and says, “Stop. It’s just the onions,” before hustling out of the kitchen to the bathroom down the hall.
“There aren’t any onions in here,” Lo says, scratching her head in confusion as she glances around the kitchen.
“Okay, Mama. If you’re happy, I’m happy,” I say and kiss both of her cheeks. Mama beams up at me, and the happiness and peace written all over her face tells me everything I need to know. I’ve known Greg for a long time. He’s been my doctor since he first opened his practice. He’s a good man, and I know he’ll treat her right. The whole axe-murderer bit was a tad on the dramatic side.
I go to the bathroom where Millie has locked herself in and knock on the door. I’m determined to figure out why my mom’s announcement has upset her.
“Go away,” she says through the door.
“I just want to talk to you,” I beg her. Leaving her to cry on her own feels wrong. I hear the lock on the door click, and then the door cracks open a tiny bit. She peeks out at me through the crack, and the tear streaks staining her cheeks break me. I push the door open and force my way in.
I wrap her in my arms and say, “Tell me what’s going on.”
She doesn’t answer immediately, and it takes all of my willpower to not push her. Eventually she says, “Your mom.”
“I’m gonna need you to expand upon that.”
