Chapter Thirty #2
“Yes,” Mom says, leaning against the counter. “I dated so many duds, I was done. At least, I wanted to take a break, cleanse my soul a little bit.”
“So, how did you meet Mr. Jones if you were trying to ward guys off?”
Mom curls in on herself a little, her lips spreading into a small smile. She looks down at her glass of wine, but from the visible warmth in her skin, it would be more fitting if she was holding a piping mug of hot chocolate.
“It was at church. I joined the ushers when I was in college to meet some people and make friends. Our meetings happened to let out at the same time as a Bible study group.
“So, one day, after our meeting ended and we were having refreshments, one of the ushers invited them to join us. I didn’t notice him at first. He came into the room with the rest of the group, and I wasn’t paying them any mind.
I was talking to one of my girlfriends. But then I felt something, and I looked up.
There, on the far side of the room piling a glazed donut on top of his chocolate-iced donut, was Clark.
He had an Afro back then—I don’t know if you’ve met Clarity’s dad, but he’s bald,” Mom says, laughing a little.
“But he had an Afro back then, and these dorky, thick-framed glasses, and a neat beard. And his smile—ugh, that smile.
“God might as well have been sitting on my shoulder, whispering in my ear, He’s the one.”
“But how did you know? Like, he could’ve been like any other guy,” Hannah points out.
Having heard this story already, I get up to pour myself some coffee, still listening. More interested in Hannah’s take on the story than in the story itself.
“He could’ve been,” Mom admits, pulling the creamer out of the fridge for me. “But he wasn’t. I prayed for a good man, and when I saw him, I just knew that he was the answer to those prayers.”
“I guess that makes sense. Sometimes, with the right person, it feels different. Indescribable even,” Hannah says, looking over at me but quickly looking away.
“Exactly,” Mom says, nodding in agreement. “Indescribable.”
I sit back down, thankful for the mug warming my hands and for the misty way Hannah seems to be admiring my Mom and her story.
“It’s refreshing that you’re such a romantic,” Hannah says.
The comment catches me off guard and I nearly choke on my coffee.
“I didn’t become one until I met Clark,” Mom admits, tentatively touching the outside of her plastic container to see if it’s cooled off.
“God taught me lessons, sent guys to show me good qualities and bad qualities, showed me what to appreciate in a man even if it’s not something I necessarily like.
That way, when the right man came along, I’d be sure. I’d know, from the signals.
“I think falling in love is exciting, and I can’t wait to watch Clarity experience it. I know that’s not what you girls want to hear, but I’m sure your mom feels the same way.”
“I doubt it,” Hannah says, mimicking my tone.
“Give her some credit. I know I can be a little straightforward about things that some parents don’t really talk to their kids about, but that’s because I don’t have time to beat around the bush,” Mom says, winking at me.
“With that said, I’m gonna get out of your hair and eat my food before it gets cold, let y’all do your homework. ”
“Finally,” I say, pretending to let out a breath and rolling my eyes dramatically.
“Holler if you need me,” Mom says, shuffling down the hallway, her socks silent on the hardwood floors.
“She really wants you to be with a guy,” Hannah whispers.
Surprising myself, I whisper back, “We don’t know that for sure. She just wants me to fall in love someday—”
“But the assumption,” Hannah whispers, though her voice trails off. “It’s just a lot.”
After a couple hours of studying and an entire family-size bag of Pizza Rolls split between us for dinner, Hannah packs up her bag, and I shout down the hall to let Mom know I’m walking her out.
I silently close the door behind us, aware of the privacy the wall offers that we didn’t have before with my mom possibly eavesdropping from her room.
I tug on Hannah’s hand and pull her into a kiss. I should’ve kissed her when she got here, but I was so anxious about how tonight would go, about how we’d left things. Now, I just wish we had more time.
“This was fun,” I say when I pull away.
“We didn’t burst into flames,” Hannah concurs, smiling.
“What is it with you and this bursting into flames at my house thing?”
“The whole religion and hellfire concept,” she says, chuckling.
“Ha ha, so funny,” I say, monotone and shoving her on our way outside to the driveway. “You’ll text that you made it home okay?”
“Of course,” she says, her voice quiet, as she tosses her backpack into the back seat. She closes the door and turns to me, not moving to open the driver’s side door.
“What?”
“There’s this Halloween party at the end of the month.”
I wasn’t necessarily anticipating what she was going to say, but this wasn’t it.
“Oh?” I reply.
“Halloween falls on a Tuesday this year, so the party will be on the Saturday before… which I know is on your birthday. But if you’re free and you want to, I’m inviting you,” she explains, looking down.
“A Halloween party,” I say, turning the idea over in my head.
I’m a senior in high school and I haven’t once been invited to any Halloween parties.
Kristen and I usually hang out. We would trick-or-treat together when we were younger and then graduated to gorging on our own stash of store-bought candy and watching movies as we got older.
A party might be fun.
“Can I invite Kristen and her boyfriend?” I ask. “Kristen and I have always spent Halloween together…”
“Yeah, invite them!” she quickly adds. “All of you have to come—”
“Oh, we have to?”
“You do, for sure,” Hannah says, her smile flooding her eyes.