Page 67 of Lethal Seduction

I don't answer right away, but I sigh.

"I can hear it in your breathing, Michael. Tell me what's going on. Did you get shot at? I swear to everything holy in this universe if you get shot, I'm coming down there and making you quit your job. You know how I worry. There're too many bad people out there. Honey?"

"Don't be silly, Mom. Nothing like that."

"You promise on your great grandfather Boone's grave?"

"I swear I was not shot at. There'd be no way I could keep something like that from you. I promise."

"Okay," she says, her tone betraying her skepticism. "What's the problem then?"

"There's a guy I've sort of been seeing." What in the hell am I doing? The only thing that could get my mom on the plane faster than if I got shot is if I started dating someone.

"What?" Her screech is just below a dog-whistle.

Here it comes. A million questions. Demands for details I don't even know yet, and I did it all to avoid telling her I was in the hospital. What was I thinking?

"Bill? Come in here," she calls out to my father. No doubt he's in the living room reading the newspaper like he always does at this time of day. "Our son has some good news for a change. Get in here."

"Mom," I say, frantic not to hash out what I still am not sure about. There's something truly special about Patrick, but again, I still don't know him that well. Could I be imagining how deeply he feels for me?

"What? Your father is going to want to hear this firsthand, so I don't have to repeat it line for line to him later. I'll certainly be parched after telling your cousin Deborah, who will need to put another place setting down for your special someone."

Oh, shit. It's already happening. She's imagining us married. Probably in a large home with a white picket fence, two-point-five kids, and a dog. I need to get off the call before it's too late.

"I have to go; my boss is calling," I say.

"Tell him you're in the middle of an important family discussion. He can call back later. Bill," she hollers again to my dad. "Get in here."

"Sorry, it doesn't work like that. There's got to be something really important going on, or he wouldn't dare call this late."

Silence meets me on the other end of the call. My mom is mulling over the cost of plane tickets and if it's worth it to getthem before she's heard the entire story first. "Fine," she says. "I expect a call as soon as you're free."

"For sure, Mom. Would I leave you hanging?"

"Momma loves you," she says. "I'm so happy I could cry. There are so many things I need to plan. Please tell me the wedding won't be destination. It has to be here."

"Got to go," I say. "Love you."

I disconnect the call before I hear her response, as she has not stopped talking about flower arrangements. My mom has been wanting me to get married since I turned eighteen years old, regularly referencing the fact that she wants to be a young, healthy grandmother. Not one of those little old ladies, sitting on a rocking chair, knitting cat fur into a shawl.

My phone rings, startling me out of my day-nightmare.

"Hello, Joe," I say, answering the call. I can count the number of times we speak on the phone about something other than work. It doesn't mean we aren't close, but since we spend more time together than he does with his wife, we have plenty of time to chat in person about other things. "Everything okay?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing, buddy. My wife wants to bring you over some baked ziti and wine. When would be good?" he asks. "And if you don't want it, you'd still better say yes because she's adamant since you saved my life."

Laughing into the phone, I feel my spirits rise. "She's such a good woman. You're so lucky to have her as your partner."

"I really am, and she will remind me of that whenever possible." We both laugh again. "Honestly, super glad you're okay, man. I couldn't imagine doing this job without you."

"Man," I say. "You're going to make me cry. Stop it. I'm fine. Plus, you’re the one who was shot. You’re the hero here."

"Great," he says. "When should I bring the ziti?"

I laugh and bring my emotions back under control. "Not really that hungry today. Maybe tomorrow? I won't be back towork for at least a week. You know how the higher-ups want to look into everything before they let us come back."

"I heard you're going to be put into department-mandated counseling since you were assaulted on the job."

---