“It was the first date. And I’m sorry I didn’t call you immediately to make you privy to my personal life. But yes, I guess we are dating. His name is Vick.” I know she already knows his name, but I tell her anyway.
“He’s a house painter,” she grumbles looking up at me, her fingers working at ripping meat from the chicken breast in her hand. “Not exactly the best career.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care.”
“I know,” she surmises before stuffing the meat in her mouth. After she chews and swallows, she adds, “And what about this Connor?”
“What about him?”
“When will he be moving out?”
I finish chewing the potato salad in my mouth before answering. “He has an open invitation to stay.”
Mom leans back in her chair and wipes her mouth. “He needs to move on and find his own place. He shouldn’t be mooching off of you.”
“He’s not,” I argue after wiping my mouth. “Blake had everything set up. You know that. I don’t have to worry about anything.”
Shaking her head, she lets out an aggravated sigh. “Blake was a good man, but for the life of me I’ll never understand why he put you in this position.”
“He didn’t put me in any position,” I clarify, sternly, looking her straight in the eyes. “Connor is a good man, and I’m happy to help him.”
“Demi,” she sighs as if exhausted with my naivety.
Standing, I take my paper plate to the trash and toss it. “I know you’re worried about me, but please stop this,” I beg. “I’m a grown woman. I’m not an idiot. Connor may have made . . . mistakes in the past, but people can change, mother. He is a good man, and I’m telling you right now, if you meet him and show him anything but the utmost respect, I will be very angry.”
Pursing her lips in annoyance, she starts working on her chicken again, not looking at me. “Between you and Lexi, I don’t know who is worse.”
I smile a little. It’s time to give Lexi a taste of her own medicine. “Well, Lexi is dating this really nice guy named Bob.”
My mother’s gaze flies to mine. “She is?”
“Says he’s the man of her dreams. Next time you see her, ask her to show you a picture. I think you’ll love him.”
I stay a bit longer, and we both dance around the subjects my mother really wants to discuss and stick to the more mundane ones; her next hair appointment, bingo night, etc. And when I leave, as we hug, she says, “I’ll stop by soon.”
Guess there’s no avoiding it, eventually my mother will meet Connor. God, help me. And Connor.
When I get home, the garage is closed, and I see no sign of Connor. For some reason, I feel restless. Being around my mother always puts me in a mental tizzy. Add to that I still haven’t heard from Wendy, and I’m worried that I may have damaged our friendship irrevocably. Connor cut the grass a few days ago, but it looks like it’s starting to get a little shaggy, so I decide to change into some old cutoff jeans shorts, a tank top, and pull my hair in a messy knot on my head, and gear up for a little exercise.
Colorado experiences hot days, but, fortunately, there’s no humidity. But even without humidity, sweat blankets my skin as I pull out the old push mower and wheel it to my starting point. After a few pulls, the machine roars to life and I begin walking straight lines. Connor takes a lot more pride in this task, mowing at angles and making the lawn look like a golf course. Me, if I can get it cut without completely screwing it up, I’m happy. When I finish the front lawn, I move to the back and continue my boring straight lines. About halfway through, the mower starts sputtering and shuts off, having run out of gas.
“Son of a biscuit,” I groan. Hearing the sound of someone chuckle, I whip around and find Connor is leaned over the bottom railing of the stairs to his apartment, watching me. He has a lazy smile on his face, and I try not to stare, but he looks so damn delectable. The easy smile against the hard body and tattoos, there is something positively divine about it. Suddenly it feels a lot hotter out here.
“Didn’t hear you pull in,” I note as I walk toward him.