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I’d just have to go with it.
By the time I was out of her bathroom, Mom was no longer in her room, so I went into the hallway and the main bathroom door was open. I ducked in quickly, brushed my teeth and came out, hearing voices coming from the kitchen.
I took a calming breath, squared my shoulders and forged ahead.
I walked in the kitchen, trying to look cool and casual, as if I had guys over all the time and didn’t feel like an idiot in my Dodgers nightshirt.
Eddie was sitting at the table. He’d topped the jeans with a tight red T-shirt and had a mug of coffee in front of him. He looked up at me when I walked in. His eyes moved the length of me and I could see the dimple come out. I didn’t know what to make of that but decided to consider it a good thing.
Mom spoke and my attention swung to her.
“Hey, dollface. Don’t worry, Eddie and me introduced ourselves. I’m making him eggs.” She threw one of her gorgeous smiles at Eddie then her eyes turned back to me. “You want coffee?”
Mom was standing at the counter, her wheelchair positioned by the table. She’d put on a lilac T-shirt dress that had peach flowers embroidered on the V-neck. It was essentially a modern-day muumuu. It was easy to put on because if she stood up gravity did a lot of the work and it was stretchy so she could shove her bum arm through. It was simple and inelegant, but with her coloring it looked smashing on her.
“Thanks, Mom. In a second.”
My brain was beginning to kick in and worry was starting to envelope me.
I turned to Eddie and asked, “Can I talk to you a minute?”
I didn’t wait for him to answer, just turned around and walked into the living room. I heard him follow me.
I needed somewhere private to talk and looked around. The living room was no good, Mom could hear (and she’d be listening, for certain). The dining room was part of the living room and I couldn’t take him to Mom’s bedroom.
I sighed huge and took him to my room.
My room was boring. My old apartment was part of a big Victorian mansion that had been sliced up into apartments decades ago. It had all sorts of wonky rooms, wood floors and I’d made the most of it with fun little knickknacks, Christmas lights covered in flowers, that kind of stuff. I hadn’t had time to make this new space fun, not only my room but also the entire apartment. All my old stuff was still in boxes in the corners. The space was boring and depressing, and looking at it through what I imagined were Eddie’s eyes, kind of embarrassing.
He followed me into the room and didn’t even look around. He was watching me.
“Can you close the door please?” I asked.
He did as I asked, and when he turned back to me, I launched in.
“Listen, Eddie, Mom doesn’t know Dad’s in town and I don’t want her to know. They don’t get along and it’ll just upset her. In fact, I don’t want her to know any of what’s been going on. She had a stroke eight months ago and I don’t want her troubled with this. If she knew about all this stuff, she’d be worried sick, her blood pressure would get out of control and I don’t even want to think…” I paused, not wanting to get upset, took a breath and finished, “So you can’t say anything.”
I waited to argue, for him to tell me I was wrong, or being unfair, or that I should warn her, or for him to disagree with me in some way, but instead he said, “All right.”
I blinked at him.
“All right?” I asked.
“Yeah, all right,” he repeated.
I stared.
He was far more awake. His hair was still messy, but it suited him (in a big way) and he was watching me closely.
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Nope,” he answered.
I knew it. Here we go.
“Okay then, what?”
He took a step toward me, pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It was a serious kiss, including tongue. No brush on the lips this time and there was absolutely no need for a do-over.
