Page 11 of Just Like in the Movies
Llewellyn
"Idunno, Mom. I think I am stupid." We were sitting on my parents' patio eating ice cream at ten in the morning the day after the funeral, because that was how I dealt with things. It was a good thing my job kept me on my feet, or I’d be a whale.
"Lewellyn William King, if you even think about giving him another chance, I'll.. I'll..." Mom sputtered to a halt—she obviously couldn't come up with a sufficiently horrible punishment for me.
"Too late," I admitted. Even though I was half of the same mind as Mom, there was a part of me that hoped. A part of me that remembered, that was convinced that the Mike I'd seen at the funeral was the real Mike. And there was also Mrs. Costner, who had told me when I got back from the funeral that sometimes it took an alpha’s brain a few extra years to catch up to his other bits and that I wouldn’t know until I gave him a test drive.
Talk about mixing your metaphors.
"I know you loved Maddie," Mom said. "But you know that not long after she got married and started having kids, she gave up on Hollywood. Actors have flexible personalities—they have to, if they're any good. And emotions are very intense while filming—she knew that. You've seen all the divorces in Hollywood over affairs with co-stars. Why do you think he's going to be any different when he gets back into that environment?"
Truth was, I wasn't sure. Maybe he'd changed? Maybe not. He'd been reliable here, loving, attentive—everything a devoted alpha was supposed to be. How was I supposed to know that it wasn't an act? That he wasn'tacting?
And the other truth was, there was no way I could tell.
I stuffed another spoonful of Chocolate Chunk Choco Explosion into my mouth, because you can't talk with your mouth full, right? Or be forced to talk.
I forgot that it wouldn't stop my mother from talking.
"I was speaking to your aunt this morning," she said in a voice so casual it set all my alarms ringing.
I force-swallowed my mouthful of ice cream. "Why were you talking to Nance?" I asked when I was done choking.
"Well, you know that her kids have all moved out now and she's just rattling around in that big house all by herself. I think she's lonely. And you're a young man, you might enjoy living in a larger city."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "This one is fine."
"How do you know? You've never tried it," she said, far too reasonably. "You could go for a visit, just a couple of weeks to see how you like it."
Ah. "You wouldn't be trying to get me out of town until Mike goes back to L.A., would you?"
"I just think," she said firmly, "that you've never spread your wings. You're old enough you don't need someone watching out for you all the time, and there'll probably be better jobs for you in Portland. Do you want to be working in a senior's home all your life?"
"I like my job. I like my patients. They tell good stories." Old stories, for sure, and often the same ones over and over again, but I didn't mind. It made them happy.
The doorbell rang.
"Are you expecting someone?" Mom asked.
I shook my head. "You?"
"No."
We stared at each other for a moment, then the bell went again. "I'd better get it," Mom said and put her bowl down. "Don't let anything gross land in my ice cream, okay?"
"I'll guard it with my life," I promised and peered after her as she went back inside.
Who could it be? Maybe a delivery of some sort—had I ordered anything online recently? I didn't remember anything, but I did sometimes pre-order games or movies. Well, if it was something like that, it would be a good way to make the day pass.
"Lew," Mom called from inside. "Could you come here?"
"What's up?" I grabbed both our ice creams and used the toe of my sneaker to push the screen open.
She walked back down the hall toward me, holding a vase full of flowers. "These are for you."
Uh oh.I put the ice cream on the kitchen table and reached for the vase. "Who are they from?" I asked. Like I didn't know.
She gave me that Mom look and sat down, pulling her ice cream toward her.
