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“I don’t remember,” she stuttered. “One of the girls.”
“Bridget’s the onlygirlwho works there, Mom. I can’t see Bridget talking about anyone. Anyway, you tell whoever said it that they’re wrong. She’s a firefighter, and she has short hair, but she likes guys, and I’m proof of that. Boy, talk about mean girls.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”
He walked out with his bag packed. “I’ll be back later,” he said. “Maybe.”
“You just met her.”
He stopped and looked down at his mother, the concern on her face softening his anger, so he kissed her head. “Mom, we just worked and ate together and slept in the same building for the past three days. Iknowher, okay? Ask Joey. She makes awesome food. Finally, someone besides Tony who can cook in that place.”
Anguished, Roberta watched her next-to-last son walk out to his truck, nodding to the girl in the red sports car and not waving goodbye to his mother. Why did sons have such power to break their mothers’ hearts?
“You ready?” Jake asked, looking down into the car.
“Follow me,” she said, noting those searing eyes. A chill of pleasure rippled through her body and she giggled out of nowhere.
“Pull it together, Angel.”
They wound through the streets back into town, the line to the donut shop a block long, the streets full of people pushing baby strollers and shopping carts, stores having their windows washed, the start of a day in the city.
Her apartment was in the back facing the courtyard, so she drove through the alley to the parking lot, waiting to get out until he pulled in next to her. The feeling of the forbidden rose again, and she wondered what she was worried about.
“Did I already tell you I love this building?”
“You did. I love it, too. It’s the same inside, green tile bathroom, yellow tile kitchen, all the little recessed places in the walls for old-fashioned telephones and statues of saints. My mom and dad had to explain this phenomenon to me. You’ll see.”
He followed her up the steps, standing as close to her as he could without feeling like a stalker, and she felt him behind her when she unlocked the door. She turned to look at him, frowning a little, and they laughed. It was one time she was glad she was a neatnik, her place was always ready for company, and she never had any unless it was a few high school friends stopping by from time to time. Now there was a real reason to be neat. Jake might be a frequent visitor. She shook her head, willing the thought to be gone.
“Nice place,” he said, looking around. “Are you always so clean?”
“Ha! I cleaned up before I left for three days,” she said. “Why? Are you messy?”
“No, not really, but I still live at home with mommy, who is always right there to make sure all my needs are met.”
“Ha! Okay, gotcha. It must be a son thing, because my mother is the same way with my brothers.” She glanced at him sidelong. “I’ll put coffee on.”
“I’ll learn to take care of myself!”
“That’s good,” she replied, snickering.
“I’m suddenly beat,” he replied, following her into the kitchen.
“Sit. I’ll bring you a cup.”
“I said I’d cook for you.”
“I’m really not hungry yet,” she said. “Let’s just relax.”
“Relaxing sounds good. I’m not good at it.”
“You’re not? Why not? Because I’m not either.”
“My mom likes us to stay busy,” he said, chuckling. “It’s the way I was raised.”
“So that’s why you were so helpful at the station instead of watching TV while I worked.”
“I wanted to help out,” he said, grinning. “And I wanted to hang out with you.”
