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Donovan wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. It felt like a loaded question. Like a test. He knew the question itself had layers of meaning. Chances are his answer would be dissected and examined for those layers, too.
Well, fuck it,he figured. You can’t go too wrong with the plain truth.
“I’m not sure, actually,” he said, and then let out a bleak laugh. “I’m not sure about much anymore.”
“I understand that feeling.”
He nodded. It felt good talking to Ella’s mom, even if there was a lot he couldn’t talk to her about. It felt familiar, safe, and comfortable. He took a sip of the warm, rich tea and let the warmth of the liquid fill him.
Mrs. Fletcher leaned against the stool’s back and gave him an appraising look. There was a glint of amusement in her eyes that made him think that, even though he hadn’t said much, she understood the whole story. Maybe even more than he himself did.
“So, what are you planning on doing about her?”
About her. Ella’s mom hadn’t said about it, or about that. She’d said about her.
So, yeah, apparently she did understand.
“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully.
Mrs. Fletcher patted his hand again. “I don’t know what to tell you, Donovan. I’m biased. I don’t want you to hurt my baby girl.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to.”
She nodded and they sat in silence for a moment. She was the first to break it. She picked up her mug and lifted it to her lips. “How about we just drink tea?” she said, and then took a sip.
He nodded, grateful. He wasn’t ready to think about what, if anything, the future might hold with Ella, even within his own mind. He certainly wasn’t ready to explain his “intentions” to her mother. But sitting in companionable silence and drinking tea? That he could do. That was pretty damn awesome, as a matter of fact.
After they’d finished the cups and Mrs. Fletcher was rinsing them off in the sink, Donovan said, “I came over her to check up on you. You ended up taking care of me.”
She laughed and shot him a quick smile over her shoulder. “Oh, hon. You aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last. Sometimes a person just needs a cup of tea and a sympathetic ear, even if they don’t want to talk.”
He nodded as he stood to leave. “I did. Thank you.”
She gave him a hug before he walked out the door and said, “Anytime, Donovan. Really. I want you to know that.”
As Donovan walked back toward the street and his rental car, he shook his head to clear the pressure building in it, and the tightness in his throat. He didn’t understand why such a simple act of motherly kindness had affected him so much.
Of course you do, he berated himself. And you just said it. Motherly. That’s the key. She reminds you of being a kid. She reminds you of Mom.
