Chapter 6
Well, folks, the idiot award goes to Scott Mason for the second time in one day. How—how could he have messed it up again ? Scott stood on the train platform, watching as Dina literally ran away from him, wondering what on earth he had done wrong.
He thought they’d been getting along really well. Dina was wickedly funny, and she’d warmed up to him after he’d complimented her cat. Well, Heebie was a furry little angel so he hadn’t been lying. And he’d seen the way she’d looked at him from underneath those long, dark eyelashes. His mind raced back to when she’d licked some marshmallow off her lip. Just the thought of her tongue parting her lips, firmly licking, the brush of his thumb on her mouth, was making him hard. Maybe he had come on too strong.
Or maybe she just isn’t into you, his traitorous brain thought. He was, after all, out of touch with the dating game. He had no way of knowing now, anyway. Dina was long gone, though he swore the scent of her spiced orange perfume still lingered in the air around him.
Scott had been about to ask if she wanted to get a drink, since they were both going to be in Little Hathering that weekend. What were the chances of them meeting twice in two days, anyway? A younger, more na?ve Scott would have believed it to be serendipity.
Dina had obviously sensed that he was about to ask her out, since she’d upped and left before he’d even finished his question.
Ah, well. This weekend wasn’t about him anyway. It was about Eric and Immy’s wedding, visiting his mums, and going for walks with views that weren’t encumbered by skyscrapers. Scott didn’t have much time to ruminate on Dina, because his mum was waiting for him in the parking lot of the station near her bright yellow Beetle.
“Scott! Darling!” Helene shouted, waving over the small crowd of people who had gotten off at Little Hathering, her strawberry-blonde hair tied up with an elaborate headscarf.
Scott laughed and bent down to give his mum a hug. He remembered when he was little and he’d hugged her, he’d only come up to her waist. Now, each hug was a bear hug, his arms wrapped all the way around. But hugging his mum tonight, he couldn’t help but think that she felt smaller than she used to, more fragile.
“It’s good to have you home,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “Now, are you going to tell me who that lovely lady was that you were talking to on the platform?” She grinned mischievously, patting his arm as she tugged him along to the car.
“No one. Just someone I sat next to on the train.” He had never been good at lying to his mum, even if this technically was just a shade of the truth.
“Mmm-hmm, sure.” She winked, before launching into an update on what they’d been up to. The wonderful thing about his mum Helene was that when Scott wasn’t up to talking much, she could carry the conversation for both of them.
“Alex has been painting the garden shed, a color called Majorelle blue. It’s quite something! And the neighbor was complaining about our sunrise meditation again, but honestly, if he doesn’t want to see my lady bits he can just avoid peeking out his curtains at five in the morning.”
Scott listened to his mum nattering away as she sped around village corners, telling him all about the improvements they were making to the house, and the different kinds of birds she’d spotted at their bird feeder. Retirement suited her.
Both of his mums had been morticians, but you’d never guess that if you met them. Both sunny and bubbly, they loved to regale people with the story of how they met, their scalpels touching as they both sliced up the Y-incision of the same cadaver at mortuary school.
Scott looked out the window as Little Hathering passed them by. He could understand why his mums loved it here. It was adorably quaint, and each shop on the high street had curved glass windowpanes and hanging lights. As it was so close to Halloween, most of the shopfronts were artfully decorated with grinning pumpkins, cinnamon broomsticks, and cardboard cut-outs of cackling green witches stirring their cauldrons.
Little Hathering was the sort of place where you would find bunting all year round, and the sort of place Americans would think of if you described an English village. It looked straight out of a romantic comedy—the kind his mums loved and made him watch whenever he came to stay. But as they passed through the streets, he couldn’t help but look out for Dina’s silhouette, or Heebie off on the run again.
As they pulled up outside his mums’ house, Scott noticed Eric’s silver Audi was parked outside.
“Eric’s here?”
“Oh yes, did I forget to mention? He brought over your wedding suit.”
The scent of fresh apple cake wafted over as soon as Scott entered the house, Juniper racing up to him on her short little legs.
“Hi, gorgeous girl.” Scott scooped the perfectly rotund corgi into his arms, scritching her between her ears as she furiously slobbered all over his face. Scott noticed the fur around Juniper’s nose was a shade paler than when he’d last visited, and guilt streaked through him.
“I’ve been telling her you were coming home all day. She’s been so excited,” chimed Alex, who pulled Scott into a long hug the moment he put the dog down.
“Hi, Mama,” Scott said, burying his face in Alex’s graying curls.
“You look hungry—have you eaten?” She tugged him through the narrow hallway, family photos lining the walls—far too many from Scott’s awkward teenage years—and into the kitchen.
Eric was sipping tea from an enormous clay mug and waved hello as Scott entered.
He grinned. “I’m not here for you, just the cake.”
“I’d expect no less,” Scott replied, cutting himself a hefty slice. Helene’s apple cake was perfectly spiced with cinnamon and nutmeg. He thought about asking her for the recipe—maybe he could give it to Dina. If he ever saw her again.
“Look at you both, eating cake in the kitchen. I’ve missed it.” Helene smiled as she walked in, pressing a kiss to Alex’s forehead as she poured herself a cup of tea.
He’d missed this when he was traveling for work. The simple joy of sitting with his mums and his best friend in their warm, cozy kitchen. Alice hadn’t liked coming to visit his mums much; she’d said that the bright colors they’d chosen to paint their house gave her a headache. It was a little like being inside a coloring box at times, but he loved it. It was the first real home he’d ever had. He remembered realizing that his mums didn’t like Alice either, though they hadn’t been too forceful about it, believing Scott was happy. He wished he’d listened to them.
Scott glanced over to the fridge, which was cluttered with a random assortment of fruit-shaped magnets, each one holding up a postcard he’d sent. Ouarzazate, Lima, Kirikiriroa, the list went on. Had he really been gone so long? At the time he’d just needed to escape England; he hadn’t wanted to see his mums, hadn’t wanted to admit that they’d been right about Alice all along. But now Scott realized he’d let the pain from his breakup seep into this part of his life too, affecting his relationships with the people he loved the most. He could still repair things, he hoped. He would try.
“I wish I could stay longer,” Eric said, breaking Scott out of his self-imposed guilt trip. “But Immy has me on flower-arranging duty before we head out later. Which reminds me”—Eric nudged Scott—“come out to the Roebuck later? A few of Immy’s friends will be there, kind of breaking the ice before the wedding, you know.”
“Sure, sounds good.”
“And listen,” Eric said, pulling him into the privacy of the hallway, “there might be someone there I’d like you to meet. Immy’s maid of honor. She’s…let’s just say I think you’re going to get on well, that’s all.” Scott didn’t like the mischievous glint in Eric’s eyes.
“This better not be a matchmaking scheme,” he warned.
Eric held up his hands. “Honestly, mate, I think you just need to get laid.” He clapped Scott on the back.
“I see. You just want to play wingman. I’ll see you a bit later then,” Scott said, pulling Eric into a quick hug before he left.
After that, the evening sped by. His mums had a load of DIY tasks they needed his help with—mostly putting up shelves and dismantling old furniture. He felt again that he’d wasted time not visiting them while he’d been with Alice. They weren’t getting any younger, and every meal, every evening together, felt more precious to him than it ever had before. The same went for Juniper. The fur around her nose was whiter than when he’d last seen her, and she napped more than she used to. Scott took her out for a walk around the local park; she was always overexcited in the first few minutes, eagerly sniffing every corner of the street—her territory—with the enthusiasm of a hound on the hunt. They spent a few minutes beside the “magical pie bush,” a small shrub that Juniper had once found an entire pie in, and now had to check on every walk in case the bush manifested any more delicious snacks for her.
After that, he ended up clearing the garden shed of spiders, his mums’ mortal enemies, and decided to pop to the shop to fill the fridge.
“Are you sure?” Helene said when she spotted him taking the shopping list off the fridge. “Weren’t you meant to go to the pub to meet Eric and Immy’s friends?”
“Yeah, I just feel wiped out. A long day at work and all that.”
“Well, make sure you at least wrap up warm.” She smiled and settled onto the worn sofa beside Alex to watch their evening soap opera.
As Scott walked through the quiet village streets, he thought about how easy his mums made being in love look.
Even when he was a boy, they’d always been like this, and unlike many of his friends’ parents they hadn’t fallen out of love as the years went on—if anything they were more in love now than ever. They still bought flowers for each other, most of the time picking up two of the exact same bouquet. Scott had lost count of the times he’d come home to visit and found them dancing to the radio in the kitchen.
He wanted a love like that.
Maybe he should have gone to the pub tonight to meet Immy’s maid of honor. Maybe Eric was right, and all he needed was to get laid. But his mind kept crawling back to Dina, her cackling laugh and the worry he’d seen in her eyes when she’d thought Heebie had run away from her on the train, quickly followed by relief when she’d seen Heebie in his arms. He wanted to see that relief in her eyes again, that happiness. He wanted to be the one to causeit.
He didn’t want to meet another woman, not tonight anyway, with his mind full of Dina. Next time he wouldn’t mess it up. He’d say all the right things. Fuck, he wished he could see her again…