Black and Green (The Ghost Bird #11)

It was the one choice his mother couldn’t budge him on, but she was happy with him resigning to be a doctor.

“Besides, do you want to spend all your time at an office and no time with a future wife?” she asked.

Leading question. He dipped his chin down, but focused on the road, refusing to look at the phone again. He didn’t want her to know about Sang at this point.

How could he possibly explain to his mother about her? Would she ever approve?

Miles later, he pulled onto an avenue filled with condo complexes. His neighbors kept the standard gardens that were given, with short hedges and tiny front lawns. His was at the end, the only condo with a multitude of rose bushes, so many that they were nearly overwhelming.

Owen didn’t have enough lawn for his hobby, so he had to bombard Sean’s. At least Sean never had to care for his own lawn. Owen took care of it.

Sean parked in front of his place and got out, put his phone and keys in his pocket and opened the back for her suitcase, all before she could unbuckle.

The air was getting colder since it was after dark. Not quite a frost, but almost. The air was heavy with dampness.

The phone seemed to burn a hole in his pocket. He felt the edges of it through the denim.

He hated waiting so long to get back to her.

He tugged the suitcase out of the back of the car quickly and carried it rather than slow down to roll it. He ushered his mother to the door.

She stopped at one of the rose bushes that still had a few late blossoms in midwinter. She touched the petals gently. “How does he get them to bloom all year?”

He hid an eyeroll. Perfect Owen with his roses and interesting hobbies. “Don’t know,” he said. “You’ll have to ask him.”

She said nothing, simply continued to feel the petals with her fingertips. She wasn’t going to acknowledge his snark.

He pressed his lips together. He was going to snap at her just because he was antsy about Sang and a little peeved with Owen lately. Giving his mother attitude wasn’t going to help matters. He tried to smile at her and even stopped to pick one of the roses with fewer thorns to give to her.

“Welcome back,” he said.

There was a small smoothing of the tiny wrinkle at her lips, and she almost smiled.

Maybe this visit wouldn’t be too bad. He just had to be a little extra nice to her so she wouldn’t notice how tense he was.

And just pretend to be at the hospital while handling the situation with Sang.

Sean turned from her, hoping she’d go easy on him. He pictured the condo as being in chaos inside after getting home from camping. Last he’d heard, Academy people had been by and dumped a bunch of stuff off in his living room.

He used his keys to open the door and allowed her inside. In the entryway, she paused quickly, taking off her shoes and putting them away on a shoe rack by the door.

When she was done, she shifted and motioned for him for his shoes.

He grunted, wanting to get into the house, but quickly kicked his shoes off for her.

She held them between two fingers and wrinkled her nose. “I’ll make sure these are cleaned.”

“You don’t have to...”

She continued to hold them and turned, holding them at arm’s length.

Were they stinky? But he knew better than that. He’d been out at camp, and there was a bit of dirt between the grooves at the bottom.

She stopped short again, preventing him from entering with her luggage, and she examined the shoe rack, picking up each shoe and checking the bottoms.

He sighed, a little too loudly. “Can I come in?”

She ignored him and then put the shoes she was carrying down on the floor. “I can just bring cleaner here. It may be faster.”

He repositioned the small brown floor mat before she could do it and pushed her suitcase further down the short hall toward the living room.

The smell of ramen met his nose, the scent of noodles and salty broth whetting his appetite.

Sean hadn’t left anything to cook. Someone was here.

He groaned internally. He suspected who it was and wished he’d picked another night.

The living and dining areas were open, and the space was surprisingly tidy, cleaner than even Sean had left it. The coffee table and entertainment center were dust-free. The white couch appeared vacuumed, with lines across the material.

Yup. It was Owen. He was usually the only one who tidied that well.

His mother scanned the living room, and then the dining table. This was set with cloth napkins and placemats prepared for three.

“You two didn’t have to do this,” she said. “Please don’t go out of your way for me.”

“This is nothing,” Sean said through partially clenched teeth. He rolled the suitcase into the living room, stopping it by the coffee table. “Everyday thing.”

And then he realized she knew this wasn’t just him. She knew her son too well. He didn’t vacuum the couch.

His mother went to the kitchen, opening the door just enough to pass through, and it swung closed behind her. “Owen?” Her voice carried in the kitchen. “So lovely to see you. How nice of you to cook. It smells wonderful.”

Sean tilted his head back and forth and mimicked her. So lovely... She never told him that.

Sean ignored his mother and Owen in the kitchen and fished his phone out of his pocket, looking back over Sang’s message again. Owen had probably done him a favor. This would give him a few spare minutes.

He rolled the suitcase into the hallway and opened the guest room door. The air smelled like the window had been opened recently, probably by Owen, to air it out a bit. The wooden bed and side tables were short. The mattress had a clean white comforter, something his mother preferred.

The closet was open, boxes that had been inside removed, allowing space for her to hang things.

Owen might have thought of everything, so it made it difficult to be too mad at him.

Sean sat on the bed and held the phone in his hands to type back to Sang.

Sean: Of course it’s a good idea! I’ll get on her good side, and I’ll be able to maybe take you on a date next week. Just watch. I’m great with moms. They like me.

Sean: And that is good news. You won’t be there long if she’s willing to let you go to a private school.

He held the phone between his hands, gazing absently at the digital keyboard. What else could he say? A vibration came with the return message from her.

She was quick. Must not be too busy.

Sang: How long do you think it will take?

Sean slumped a bit, his heart sinking, feeling a small prickle of ice at the center. Poor girl.

There were voices in the kitchen. Owen was carrying on a conversation.

He tapped out a message.

Sean: If I could get you out of there now, I would. As soon as possible. How are you holding up?

He stared down at the phone. Excitement quickened his pulse. He watched the message come up.

Sang: North’s here. He’s confident I’ll be out of here soon, too. I’m nervous. She could say no. And what about my stepmother? And my dad?

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