“I spoke with your mother today.” He then turns to look at me. I don’t know what’s coming next, but I do suddenly feel like an ass for assuming the worst with Azmir. And I suddenly realize Azmir never throws things in my face, neither does he hold on to much. Nice, Rayna! I turn to him sheepishly and nod, asking him to continue. “She didn’t complain, but I can’t help but think that she’s run her course at the hotel she’s been staying in.”
My eyes retreat beyond Azmir and into his window as my mind churns. This is truly a dilemma because I have no solutions. My mother knows no one out here; she has no support. She’s mentioned joining a church, but that wasn’t very long ago, too recent to have that close acquaintances.
I swallow hard before uttering, “I don’t know how to remedy that. I’m sure the same rules that were established for Yazmine apply to my mother with regard to living with us at the marina.” I turn to Azmir for his reaction.
He gives a slow, but affirmative nod. “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d be receptive to your moms living with you—”
“It’s just that…Azmir…it’s going to take time for me to adjust is all. I’m trying…I really am…” I try to explain.
“Rayna, I am not judging you. Trust me, I have no room to.” His voice was even yet firm. “If you’re not ready for a traditional relationship with your moms, it is not my job to force you. I’ll support and protect you. I just want to help. Okay, baby?” His eyes are filled with genuine concern. I feel guilty for bringing this to him. Although he’s brought Samantha out here, he did so as a means of supporting me.
“Okay, so what do you suggest? I don’t want you buying her a mansion on the hill. You’re doing far more than I expect with her medical care.”
“Nah, I don’t think it’s best for her to be alone considering her health. She needs companionship. I was thinking of having her stay in Redondo Beach with Yazmine. She could use some company herself.”
“Would they be compatible? They don’t even know each other. That could be disastrous.” I cringe.
“I don’t know, but I’ll take care of it. I’m sure they’ll have something in common. Worse comes to worse, they can decide it isn’t working and one could leave. It wouldn’t be a big deal. I’ll speak with them both.”
The sad reality is I know Azmir is the best person to handle this and alone. I’ve easily warmed up to Yazmine and have even hung out with her a few times since she’s been in town. My mother is a separate issue. I need time to adjust to her being around after so many years. Although so many things about her is familiar—her voice, her scent, her style—so much has changed—her appearance, her complexion, her aura, her grace, her confidence. It’s going to be a huge adjustment. One that I have yet to settle on.
“Okay,” I cowardly assent to.
~~~~~~~~~~
A couple of weeks later I’m at work, finishing up on a patient when I get a text from Azmir, saying he’s arrived next door to work. Apparently, he left his pocket watch at home in a rush out the door this morning.
I left extra early to get to my doctor’s appointment before work, but returned home to shower and dress for work. For some strange reason, I always feel like I need a shower after seeing my GYN. That gooey lubricant used to probe my private has always made me feel yucky. When I was dressing to leave for work Azmir, who had left out before I’d returned from the doctor, asked me to grab his pocket watch and said he’d be at the rec today and could get it from me then.
I quickly decide that I can use some fresh air before my next patient, so without replying to his text, I hop next door to take it myself. When I get to his office reception area, I come upon Old Lady Peg. I grunt inwardly. Azmir doesn’t spend as much time at the rec center as he did when we’d started dating. Therefore, I don’t have to see Peg as much and endure her arctic regard toward me.
As I near her desk after entering the doorway of the area, I apply a practiced smile, “Morning, Peg. I hope all is well. Is Azmir available?”
Peggy lowers her chin to see over the frames of her glasses. She gives me a once over before her eyes roll from me, back to the file before her.
“Afternoon. It is three minutes after noon, Ms. Brimm. So, good afternoon to you,” she pauses, seemingly taking her attention back to what she was doing before I arrived. “And Mr. Jacobs is in a meeting now. You can have a seat until it’s concluded,” she murmurs, never looking up for a response or a reaction.
My eyes spring erratically as I process her crudeness. I don’t know what to do. Ice Queen Peg is an employee of my, now, fiancé. Why do I feel like the adolescent crusher of her child? I honestly don’t know what to say to this woman who, at every opportunity, thickens the barrier between us.
My eyebrows furrow as my lips pout, “Ummmm…Peg?” She slowly peers up at me. “You do know that I woke up this morning to this man we speak of, don’t you?”