Page 66 of Baby, It's You
His face lights up. “Oh, don’t worry, I will be talking your ears off for hours tomorrow.”
I feel Hunter squeeze my shoulders and I lean into his touch, without even meaning to.
“I will be expecting an update, too, a detailed one,” Johnny jokes as he looks at Hunter’s hands on me.
“Yeah, okay.” I roll my eyes playfully. “We’re out of here.”
Hunter kindly tells everyone goodbye and strides to the front door, opening it for me before I can touch it.
After a leisurely ride in the truck, our conversation flowing easily, Hunter drives past his house and within a minute, we pull up to his childhood home. It’s a small, traditional-style home that’s a cream color, and has a large awning over the front porch with small yellow flowers in planters hanging from it.
“Man, you weren’t kidding. You really did grow up right near your current home.”
“Yup. Drove by it every day, dreaming about it being mine someday.”
“This place is so cute,” I tell him cheerily as we get out of the truck. He grabs his equipment from the back seat, then leads me towards the navy-blue front door and knocks.
Seconds later a woman with dark curls, just like Hunter’s, and large, wire-framed glasses opens the front door. She looks effortlessly artsy and cool, wearing some paint-splattered overalls, and has colorful tattoos lining her arms.This is who I want to be in my 60s, I think to myself.
“Hi!” she exclaims and pulls both of us into a hug at the same time. Together we let out an “oof” noise as she grips us in a bear hug. She smells like patchouli and cinnamon. It’s a stark contrast to my own mother’s rare hugs that smelled like cigarettes and some cheap perfume that gave me a headache.
I almost don’t want the hug to end as she pulls back and Hunter looks at me. “I’m sorry. My mom’s a hugger.”
“I’m just so excited to meet you,” she exclaims. “Hunter has never brought a girl home! Can you believe it? He’s such a cutie.”She leans over and messes with his hair playfully, exactly like I always do, tussling the curls. “Well, at least I think so, but maybe I’m biased because I’m his mom.” She smiles at me, her glasses raising as her cheeks lift.
“I wish you would have told me the project you’ve been working on together, Hunter,” she continues. “I would have told you all about our story!” She turns to me then. “I had no idea! He is such a private person.”
“All the videos are on my channel, Mom.” He chuckles.
“I’m sorry, son. I love you, but there’s only so much skateboarding I can watch. I had no idea you were doing something this different, though! I watched a few videos after you called me and had tears in my eyes.Freddie Finnely? I couldn’t believe it.”
“I know!” I gush, meeting her enthusiasm. “I still feel like it was a dream meeting him!”
“Come on in and you can tell me all about it!” She backs up from the doorway so we can pass her and then shuts the door behind us.
The inside of Hunter’s childhood home is warm and inviting. The walls are lined with photographs and floral paintings.
“Are you an artist?” I ask his mom.
“Oh just for fun.” She laughs. “Keeps me busy these days.”
I look at a painting near me, intricate jewel-toned flowers swirling around the canvas. “These are really beautiful,” I tell her. “I would love for you to paint something for the bar,” I add quietly, knowing that could only happen if I save it.
“My mom's being modest,” Hunter chimes in. “She’s painted murals on the side of my elementary school and lots of other spots in town. She is super talented.”
“That’s so cool!” I light up. “Better idea. I want a mural on the outside of the bar.”
“Deal.” His mom smiles. “That will be my gift to youwhenyou save the bar,” she responds kindly. She leads us down a hallway. “Come to the sunroom, I made some snacks.”
We get to brightly lit, small room filled with eclectic chairs and a wooden table in the center. On the table there is hummus and pita bread on a platter, and some veggies sliced in a bowl.
“Mom we just ate,” Hunter says. “I told you that.” He laughs as his mom brushes the comment away and helps herself to the veggies and hummus.
She then plops onto an oversized green chair and opens her arms. “I’m ready for my close-up.”
Chapter 45
Hunter
