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And Boone was nothing if not diversified.
Good thing there aren’t any other cars on the road because I probably look like an idiot chuckling to myself as I drive around alone. But, that first meeting with Boone was a doozy.
"Maybe I need to leave more space in the closet for my roommate," I say, eyeing the cramped compartment.
My mother, of course, is completely unconcerned.
"Dear," she says, "where are we going to hang your winter things?"
"Mother, can't we put them in a storage bin and I'll slide them under my bed?" I answer, like a reasonable person.
"Oh for heaven’s sake," she replies. "They’ll get wrinkled." She says it as though it’s the most ghastly thought to enter her mind. But I know plenty of ghastly thoughts have entered her mind. "There’s lots of room in the closet," she insists.
"Mother," I say, trying not to get mad and wishing she and father would get the hell on their way and leave me alone. "This is a shared room. I need to share the closet too."
My mother harrumphs and turns to my dad. "Lyle, you need to go and call someone. This is simply not acceptable. I mean, for the amount we donate to this school, not to mention the fact that you’re on the board of trustees, our daughter should not have to share a room." She glances around in a huff. "Especially one this small. It’s barely bigger than your closet back home, Kit."
"Please," I say, silently counting to ten and doing some zen mantras to keep from making a scene my first day on campus, "I’m sure everything will be fine. Why don't the two of you go on to the president’s reception for new students and I’ll text you when I’m on my way?"
The idea of mingling with the president of the university, whom she will no doubt call by his first name and give him air kisses, is too tempting for my mother.
"Well, if you’re sure, dear. You know when your sister Bridget was a student here, she always had a room to herself. Of course, she was over in the honors college so I don’t know how they do things here."
The way she says ‘here’ and turns down the corners of her mouth gives the impression that she spotted rat poop in the corner.
"Kit’s right, Lily," my father says, taking hold of her elbow. "Let’s be on our way while she gets settled in. Better for her to meet her roommate without us hanging around."
My mother pauses and I can see her warring between wanting to suck up to the college president and her fervent desire to size-up my roommate and her parents. I have not shared what I know about my soon-to-be roomie. If I found the idea of living with someone from Chickadee Ridge, Montana somewhat surprising, my mother would have a cow.
Okay, that’s kind of ironic.
My mother’s decision is made for her when the door swings open and a gorgeous girl walks in. She wears a cowboy hat over a glorious head of chestnut colored hair which falls mid-way down her back.
She’s wearing jeans and a button-up shirt tucked in and a pair of cowboy boots. Real cowboy boots. They’re scuffed and dirty and look like she just came in from the hay field.
Not like the brightly colored boots that show up as a fashion statement. The boots, like this fresh-faced girl, are the real deal.
She smiles and says, "Hi, I'm Boone." Then steps toward me with her hand outstretched and gives me a firm handshake.
I take in her open expression and genuine smile and like her immediately.
"I’m Kit," I reply.
Meanwhile, my mother stands there with her jaw hanging open. Even her years of finishing school and lifetime experience as a social butterfly have left her ill prepared for the likes of Boone Starr.
"Oh my," she says, laying a palm over her heart like she’d seen a spider. She can’t take her eyes off Boone’s worn boots. Then her gaze lands on the satchel Boone is carrying. "I-is that a real cow?"
Though hardly the sort of thing PETA would approve of, Boone is toting the most gorgeous cowhide satchel. It’s black and white and almost looks like it could moo.
As I watch, Boone fights back a smirk before she responds. Her voice takes on a decidedly Mayberry-type twang. "Why yes, ma’am it is a cow. A steer actually. Named Max. He was a good stud. All the ladies liked him. And then when he couldn’t do that no more, well, we made him into luggage. Oh, and a recliner. Max was pretty big."
My mother gasps and goes pale. Behind her, my father bends his head and I know he’s trying not to laugh.
Boone steps closer to my mother and holds up the satchel. "Would you like to touch it? Max had the nicest skin."
For the first time in my entire life, my mother is speechless. She snatches her hand away as Boone brings the satchel closer. "L-Lyle," she finally hisses at my father.
He steps forward and shakes Boone’s hand. "I’m glad to meet you. I’m sure you and Kit will become great friends. And I hope she’ll bring you to our house whenever she comes home. But I think Lily and I will head on to the president’s reception while you two get settled in."
