Page 58 of Mr. Picture Perfect
Her eyes flick back and forth between us. Then she perks her head up and her whole tone changes. “Well, that’s nonsense! Why don’t you stay the night, sweetie?”
Chapter 11
Noah
“Really, stay!” my mother chirps on, oblivious to the stunned look on our faces. “I know you’re notkidsanymore, but why not stay? It’s late, besides, and you don’t live on our street like you used to. And don’t you smell somethin’ heavenly? I just put some cookie drops in the toaster oven, and they won’t eat themselves!” She pats me on the shoulder, oblivious to the horrorstricken look on my face. “You two should spend more time together, reconnect and get chummy again, y’know, like how you used to be.”
My mom is delusional. She acts like our handful of times spent as begrudging playmates was last week. “Mom, the guestroom has dad’s trains set up on those old card tables, and the bed’s covered in track parts and tiny fake trees and miniature rice silos …”
“Who said anything about the guestroom?” She gestures at my couch. “He can stay right here inyourroom, silly!”
My soul vacates my body.
She has no idea what we just did on that bed behind me.
She’s literally pushing the horny pair of us at each other.
“Don’t be rude!” she hisses at me, then turns saccharine as she smiles at Cole. “How’s that sound, sweetheart? Would you like to stay the night here? The couch is awful cushy and soft. I napped on it once or twice before we moved it here to his room.”
I turn to Cole, doubting he will be comfortable to accept such an offer as to—
“Thank you so much. I would love to stay, Mrs. Reed,” he announces cheerily.
My eyes fall out of my face.
“Ah, and a boy after my heart, with those manners!” sings my mom. I cringe. “Y’know, the last time I saw you was at the Spruce High graduation a few years back, it was! Watchin’ you walk across that big stage lookin’ so handsome and smart in your gown …”
Literally, I am certain a drop of ejaculate I missed is drying on my underwear somewhere as we speak.
And my mom is rambling on about graduation gowns.
“That’s awfully sweet of you to say, Mrs. Reed,” says Cole.
“It’s obvious your mother did a lovely job of raisin’ you.” She takes a step back and clicks her tongue as she looks him over. Her eyes soften at once, turning almost sad. “And how … h-how’s she doin’? Lauren? How’s your mom been?”
A flicker of uncertainty passes over Cole’s face before he puts on a smile. “She’s doing great, Mrs. Reed, thank you for asking.”
“And how’s your dad? Is Robert still day tradin’?”
“No, ma’am, he’s … moved on to worse vices. Mymom’snow a day-drinker.” He says it as a joke, but I hear a note of discomfort in his voice. “In other words, not much has changed.”
My mom giggles. “Well, that sounds lovely. Her and I used to drink wine together all the time, and—”
“Sheand I,” I mumble in correction.
“Who? Oh, you’re being cute. See?” My mom gives Cole a light tap on his shoulder. That would be the second time she’s touched him. Or is it the third? “This is why mybrilliantson works at the paper and I just bake funny things all day. Did you know I made aCake-R-Doodletower for one of your mom’s birthdays? Looked like a pink-and-yellow telephone pole, ten layers, practically a weddin’ cake. Anywho, her and I used to drink together, and we’d just have thegreatesttime, we did. Please tell her I said hi, would you? I have been meanin’ to reconnect with her, but … well, but … um …” She wags her hand in the air, dismissing the rest of her own sentence. “You look thirsty. Want somethin’ to drink? I’ll mix up some sweet tea for you boys.”
“You don’t have to go through the trouble,” Cole insists with a polite smile.
“I insist. After you get settled in, why don’t you two come out for some cookies? They should be ready any minute. Noah, let him borrow some of your clothes to sleep in. Spare toothbrush under the sink, you know where they are.”
“Oh, and Mrs. Reed.” Cole comes forward and offers a wince of apology. “I … am so …sosorry. But when I was parking my car, I … I hit your mailbox. It’s on the ground.”
“Did you, now? Oh, who cares!” she cries with half a laugh, apparently unaffected by the tragic temporary death of our mailbox. “It’s just a stick with a tin box on it, silly!”
“I’ll fix it,” Cole promises. “I’ll buy you a new mailbox, a new post, bring my sledgehammer … it’ll be up and new in no time.”
“No, no, don’t you bother yourself none with that, no, no. My husband will fix it. He’s always searchin’ for things to do around here, and honestly, I think we’re overdue for a new mailbox. That old ugly thing’s been out there since Jesus was a boy. Oh, Cole, you handsome young man, you!” she sings, unable to help herself yet again. “Oh, this is going to be so fun! It’s like a slumber party!” Then with a giggle, she heads off to the kitchen humming a tune to herself, leaving us be at last.
