“Let’s do the shrimp and cheese grits. Italian dressing on the salad.”
“Excellent. And for dessert?”
My gaze drops to the bottom of the menu. “The seven-layer chocolate cake.” Sweet and decadent, just like the woman I can’t stop thinking about.
“And will you be taking it with you, or would you like us to deliver it?”
More than anything, I want to take it to her, but she might very well dump it over my head if I arrive on her doorstep.
“You can deliver it to cottage four. And ask whoever delivers it not to mention that I ordered it. Just tell them to say they’re bringing it as a courtesy since she didn’t show up for her reservation.”
Juliette will see right through that flimsy excuse, but maybe she’ll still eat it if she doesn’t know for sure. She needs to eat something.
Once I’m back at my cabin, I sit on the couch and pull up the airline’s number on my phone. I stare at it. And stare at it some more, my finger hovering over the call button.
Tomorrow is Wednesday, the day I should be flying off this island. I should just hit that button and ask the airline to change my flight. The ringing of my phone startles me, and I bobble the damn thing before catching it. Turning it over, I see that it’s my mother calling.
“Hey, Ma.”
“What’s wrong, honey?”
My mother, ladies and gentlemen. Two words from my mouth, and she knows something’s up.
I can’t exactly tell her about Juliette because what is there to tell?
Hey, Ma. I’m at a swingers’ resort, and I saw this gorgeous woman who made me jack off on my porch, and then we had two meals together before going cloud gazing. We saw a sexy bunny, and by the way, have you ever seen two ladybug clouds going at it in the sky? Completely fascinating. Anyhoo, I kissed her, and for the first time in a long while, I thought about more. But she’s a swinger, and you know homey don’t play that. When I tried to be honest with her, she got pissed off and kicked me out of her cottage, and I’m not even sure what I did wrong. But I can’t get her off my mind, so I sent food to her room. Because I’m worried about this woman I’ve known for two days. What’s up with you?
I scratch that well-formed response and go with my other truth. “I’m being traded, Ma. To Dallas.”
There wasn’t even the hint of hesitation. “Okay, so we’ll move to Dallas. I’m tired of all this cold weather anyway.”
Let me just say for the record: I. Love. My. Mother.
“What about your job?” I ask.
“I’m sure there are abusive assholes in Texas too. I’ll find a shelter or facility there that’s in need of a good counselor.”
Ican’t help the burst of laughter from my lips. “I love it when you cuss, Ma.”
“I can curse,” she insisted in her sweet voice. “Just last week, I said the s-word when I stubbed my toe.”
“Oh nooo! Not the dreaded s-word!”
“Not everyone can be a potty mouth like you,” she responds with a sniff. “And if I can’t find another job, I’ll just be a couch potato and live off my rich son.”
That makes me laugh again because she wouldnever. “Nothing would make me happier than that. I’d love for you to retire and relax a bit.”
“I don’t want to retire. What I do makes me happy. You know,” she adds thoughtfully, “I just assumed you’d want me to move with you. If that’s not what—”
“Ma, of course I want you to move with me. We’re the Dream Team, remember?”
“In it together,” she replies like she always does, and I suddenly feel better about the move. If my mother can take this change in stride, then I need to suck it up and do the same.
“I’ll start looking for a place for Gramps.”
“Reno,” she says hesitantly, “I mean, it’s totally up to you but… well…”
I try not to sigh in exasperation. “Spit it out, Ma. What do you need?”
