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He doesn’t lean over and kiss me because he’s not big on public displays of affection. But I wish he would. I wish he’d kiss me like he doesn’t have a care in the world, like he’ll never see me again in this lifetime and he can hardly stand it. A kiss filled with so much passion, I’ll be swooning for days.
Strike one, no proposal.
Strike two, no kiss.
Disappointment swirls inside me.
Ryker is a careful man. Always a bit guarded, always overthinking his life, as evidenced by his proposition, and lack of a proposal, this evening. He’s always thinking three steps ahead. Maybe four or five. I suppose that’s why he excels in the business world.
“By the way, my mom wanted me to stop by this evening. Something about important paperwork she needs to give me. Will you come with me?”
Strike three, his mother.
Freddy.
Great. The never-ending night continues.
I try to force my lips into a smile, but it probably comes off more like a grimace. “Sure.”
I’ve nicknamed his mother Freddy. She’s a kind, gracious, loving person.
At first glance.
The first time I met her, I thought she was amazing. She told me I was beautiful, she told me I was lovely, she told me I must be so smart to play the piano so well and to have attended Juilliard.
I smiled and soaked it all in.
Then she bared her proverbial ugly teeth, reminding me of Freddy Fazbear on that creepy video game,Five Nights at Freddy’s.
She turned to me and casually mentioned how being a pianist was such a sweet hobby. What did I do in real life?
“Real life?” I stuttered, taken aback.
“Yes, dear, what’s your day job? Playing the piano will get you nowhere in life. Such a tedious instrument. It gives me a headache.”
She went on with the conversation as though she hadn’t insulted me and all of my hard work.
I soon learned it’s hermodus operandi.
My brother used to playFive Nights at Freddy’s. By day, the characters are on stage, entertaining children, imitating a Chuck E. Cheese pizza parlor. Cute and sweet.
At night, they come to life, bare their creepy teeth, and terrorize the nighttime security guard.
That’s Ryker’s mom. So sweet—until she’s not. She’s scary, because you never know when she will bare her teeth and toss a barbed comment your way.
When I’m with her, I remind myself of the Eleanor Roosevelt quote:No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
I refuse to let her mess with me. How she produced a wonderful man like Ryker, I will never know. I think it might be the love she smothers him with every day of his life. It’s amazing he can breathe at all.
Time to fortify myself to face Freddy on this never-ending night.
chapter three
~
DEBRA MARTEL OPENSthe door of her ridiculously large home for only two people and greets us with a smile pasted on her face. It’s only nine on this everlasting night and she’s still dressed in a classy dress suit with her signature pearls at her neck, as though she’s about to go to the office.
She doesn’t work outside the home. She oversees the household. I have no idea why she dresses the way she does.
