Page 40 of Sweet Silver Bells
“Sorry, I barely notice the smell anymore.”
“She doesn’t even have any clothes. Where is this poor girl from?” His mom’s voice shrilled through the house, her footsteps determined as she exited through the front door.
Hunter shook his head, and his father laughed.
“Why don’t you sell those pickles at a farmers’ market? You could meet new people there.”
“I have another friend, Dad. She texts you about my well-being, so you show up unannounced. Please put that check back in your pocket. I don’t need it.”
His father sighed. “I’ll just leave it right there. Tear it up after I go if I must.”
The two let silence pass between them as they sipped too-hot coffee, trying not to flinch.
The front door opened again, and his mom huffed and puffed down the hallway to the bathroom.
“That woman cannot be stopped.” Mark laughed before slapping Hunter's left shoulder. “We just worry. It’s our job, I suppose.”
“I know, Dad. Thanks.”
With that, Mark stood up, his knees cracking, running his hands through his gorgeous head of hair.
“Minvera, we should leave the kids to be kids,” Mark bellowed.
“Almost done,” Hunter's mom rang out like a school bell ringing over a hangover.
Hunter grimaced. “I should go check on them.”
“What can happen? You’ve got to let ladies do what ladies do.”
Hunter imagined walking into the bathroom, his mom wrapped in vines, her eyes lifeless.
Don’t leave your mom to be butchered, you idiot.
He jumped to his feet. Mark very much noticed the sudden panic.
“What did I say?” his dad asked, following him with wide, quick strides down the hall.
His hallways were framed by the same wooden slats that were installed in the 1970s remodel by the owners two generations back. Hunter’s feet stopped mid-step as the bathroom door opened, and relief rushed in as Minvera came bouncing out into the hall. The smile on her face was one of a plan gone right, but Hunter looked past that for now.
“I pulled some clothes from the car, just some basics that I would be donating, so don’t sweat it. Hunter, your girl is so stunning.”
His mom squealed and squeezed Hunter's shoulders while his dad lingered at the back of the hallway, hands in his pockets, dying to leave.
“We are only friends, Mom. I’m sorry to break your heart.”
“I’ve got a few more things to get out of the trunk. I’ll leave you crazy kids to yourselves. Come help me, Mark!”
With his mom already behind him, Hunter raised his chin to greet Olivia, who emerged slowly, cautiously, from the small and cramped bathroom.
“I … you … wow,” Hunter stammered, his palms fumbling with the collar of his t-shirt, not knowing what to do with them.
He knew, however, what he wanted to do with them.
She’s yours.
Olivia's black, thick hair was lustrous, shining like glitter in a snow globe from the fluorescent lights above. Hunter didn’t even realize he had a hair dryer, and decided that yes, his mom would be the type to drive around with one as he peeped at the large square brush and dark green hand tool sitting still plugged in on the bathroom sink.
The earthy smell that had entranced him before was still there, lingering beneath whatever fragrance came out of his two-in-one shampoo. He assumed it was the pink flowers that were displayed on the bottle.
