Page 105 of College Town

“I still can’t believe it,” she tells him, dreamy-eyed, as she turns to him, and Lawson can’t deal with anymore thankful tears tonight.

“Oh, well, it’s nothing. Glad to do it.” He edges toward the door. “I’m gonna go out for a few hours. Will you and Dad be okay ‘til I get back?”

“Of course. Have a nice time, sweetie.” She smiles. “Is Tommy going to be there?”

He doesn’t think of his mother as a cunning, manipulative woman, but her smile is all snark and sneak right now. “Um…”

Headlights sweep through the windows and across the kitchen, blue-white and brand new. “Yeah,” he admits, because she’ll go to the curtains and see the Navigator whether he tells her the truth or not. “He’s picking me up, actually.”

Her eyessparkle. “Oh, is he?” She crosses the room toward the far window, and Lawson groans.

“Mom – Mom, come one, don’t be a spy.”

Too late: she’s twitched the curtain aside and hums interestedly as she sees the tall black SUV nosed up behind Lawson’s car and her van.

“Ooh,” she says, hushed, and maybe Lawson comes by his dramatic streak honestly. “What is that? A Tahoe?”

“A Navigator–”

“Fancy!”

“And it doesn’t matter!” He backs toward the door. “It’s just a car.”

“It’s a fancy car.” She shoots him a mischievous glance over her shoulder as he fumbles with his keys. “And that suit he was wearing the other day. It was fabulous!”

“Uh-huh, sure, Mom.”

“What is it that he does again?”

“Insurance. I gotta go.” Thankfully, Tommy doesn’t seem inclined to walk to the door to get him; they’d never leave if he did.

“Is this a date?”

“I dunno. No.”

He gets the door open, and one foot out of it – the temporary stairs Mack and co. put in place nearly send him faceplanting to his death in the weeds below – when she says, quiet and suddenly-serious, “Lawson.”

He halts, and looks back at her to find that her expression has become one of concern.

“Is it a date?” she asks in a softer, gentler, but much more probing tone.

Lawson swallows with difficulty. He could lie – if they were talking about anyone else, he would – but he says, “He said he wanted to take me to dinner.” He swallows again, and his throat gets stuck, dry with nerves. “We’re just going to Flanagan’s,” he rushes to add, as her brows draw together. “Beer, pool, greasy burgers. Dana and Leo are gonna meet us there.”

Her brows pop a moment – surprised by Dana’s inclusion – and then lower again, maternal worry writ large in the lines around her mouth and across her forehead as she turns to face him fully.

Outside, Lawson hears late season crickets, and the quiet idling of the Navigator. Inside, he hears the ticking of the overhead tube lights, and the murmur of the TV down the hall. Hears his mother take a slow, deep breath.

“Mom–” he starts.

“Does he know better this time?” she asks. “Does he know that you love him, so he won’t hurt you again?”

A serrated steak knife to the chest would hurt less. His breath leaves his lungs as if he’s been struck, and he tries not to let it show.

“I don’t know,” he says, finally, when it becomes clear she’s waiting for an answer.

“Law,” she chides, gently. “You should tell him.”

He wants to deny the love, to tell her he’s moved far, far beyond his childhood fling, and that he’sswimmingin dick these days – though perhaps not without conjuring that exact imagery. He wants to laugh, to play it cool, to pretend like this current, adult fling with Tommy isn’t going to be his ultimate ruination.

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