Page 10 of Flirting With Fire
So now I was here. I smiled at Mom, held her hand, and asked if I could stay for a while.
Mom narrowed her eyes, then she smiled and relaxed. “’Course you can. If you don’t mind dealing with my belly dancing class on Monday, pole dancing on Thursday, and the poker game on Friday.”
My mouth dropped open. “Belly dancing?” I said faintly. “Pole dancing? Poker?”
What the hell had happened to my knitting-addicted, watercolor-artist mother?
She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think I can dance?”
“Of course you can,” I said promptly. My mom could do anything. I knew better than to say different. “But…belly dancing?”
Mom burst out laughing. “You deserved that.”
I stared at her again, then chuckled ruefully. “I guess I did.”
“I do go dancing every week, but it’s not quite as lively.”
I shook my head. “You had me, Mom.”
She leaned back in her seat. “Are you really moving back here, Meyer?”
“I am, but I’ll need to find a place to live.”
“Then I’ll help you find somewhere.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, grateful she was willing to help and not expecting me to stay with her.
She chuckled. “You flew the nest a long time ago, son. I think we’ll kill each other if you stay here for too long.”
My mom rocked. I leaned over the table and hugged her. “I love you, Mom.”
She squeezed me hard. “I love you too. Now, I’m going to make sandwiches for lunch, and you can tell me all about your new job. Then you can tell me how you managed to get Gary to keep his mouth shut. That man has a looser tongue than my old mom had.”
It took me a moment to remember who Gary was. Then I realized. Chief Gary Brannigan. Of course. Mom knew everyone.
After lunch, I called Smith’s Auto shop and made arrangements to pick up my Impala.
“Meyer Jones,” the woman cooed. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard you were back in town. And riding on the back of Dex’s sweet horse too.”
I held back a sigh. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten what it was like to live in a small town and have everyone know everyone else and their business. I’d lived in Charming long enough. But after the anonymity of the big city, I knew it would get wearing. I remembered the first couple of years in Chicago when I’d been so lonely I’d almost given up and come home. I just needed to adjust again.
“Hi, Mrs. Smith. It sure wasn’t how I planned to arrive.”
Mrs. Smith was at school with my mom. I’d known her forever. She always had small, white fluffy dogs at her feet.
“He’s such a good boy,” she gushed. “You were lucky he turned up.”
Unseen, I rolled my eyes. It was a five-mile walk, not fifty miles. But I agreed with her because Dex had been kind, even though he was a snarky snitch.
She sent her son, who was a few years older than me, and married to Sally. I knew her better. We’d been in the same chem class together.
The ride back to where I’d left Daisy was much quicker than my journey with Dex on the back of a horse, if not as interesting. Alex Smith kept an undemanding patter for the ten minutes it took to get to my vehicle.
“There.” I pointed to the Impala.
“Nice ride,” he said.
“She’s usually so reliable.” Daisy was my pride and joy, one of the final Impalas.
