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Deciding I’d rather work back at the villa, I close my computer. But then I spot Sharon coming my way. “Hi, Mrs. Lee.”
She sits down on the lounge chair on my other side. Next to her stunning gold sheer caftan worn over a stylish plunge-neck one-piece, I feel frumpy in my t-shirt and gym shorts. Joseph gets up and leaves without a word.
“Where’s Darren?” Sharon asks.
“Golfing.”
“He’s not much of a golfer. Swimming is his sport.”
That explains his broad shoulders.
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
“I’m sure there’s a lot of things you don’t know about my son.”
I’m not sure how to take that.
She eyes my laptop. “What are you working on?”
“A grant application for my internship. We’re trying to get funding to purchase refrigerated vans.”
“What for?”
“Our food recovery program. There’s a ton of food that goes to waste each day that low-income families could use. Our goal is to collect the food from places like restaurants and retailers, and transport it to distribution programs.”
“That stuff doesn’t exist already? Don’t soup kitchens do that?”
“Surprisingly, we’d be the first to do this at a county level. The local food banks aren’t able to house fresh fruits and vegetables. They distribute canned and packaged foods, but people can’t subsist on that kind of food, which tends to be nutrient deficient and contains additives and other ingredients that are detrimental to health. Because something as simple as not getting fresh produce leads to chronic illnesses, low-income families end up needing more medical care. That’s why another program we have is called a food pharmacy.”
Sharon stares at me. “How did you and my son meet?”
“My friend, Amy, is dating JD.”
“Right. JD likes them young and cute, like your friend.”
Wondering if Sharon might be more informative than Darren, I ask, “Has he had a lot of girlfriends that are young and cute?”
Sharon looks out at the view. “I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s really none of my business who he dates.”
“Actually, I’m curious. I’d like to know my friend’s dating a good guy.”
“What is a ‘good guy?’”
“Someone who will care about her and treat her right.”
“Do you feel like Darren is a ‘good guy?’”
Is that a strange question for a mother to ask? For some reason, I want to ask the same of her.
“I haven’t seen any indications to suggest that he isn’t a good guy.”
“Couldn’t you say that about most men you meet?”
“You’ve got a point. I guess it’s just an instinct I have.”
She brings her knees up. “What if you’re wrong?”
I shrug. “Then I’m wrong. We move on.”
