To Each Their Own Kink
“You’re up early!” A sudden voice cut through the air. Startled, I nearly dropped my coffee mug, a few drops slipping to the perfectly polished kitchen floor.
“Fuck!” I muttered, glancing back at my mother. “God, you scared me.”
“Oh.” I let out an annoyed, dramatic sigh. “That would be Bobby and his annoying courtship display that woke me up with the first rays of sunshine.”
“I’m sorry, did you say Bobby?” She blinked a few times, staring at me.
“Yeah, and Ginny doesn’t seem to be so fond of him either.”
“Who the hell is Bobby, Florence?” my mother asked with a confused look. Her eyebrows flew so high I was afraid they’d never come back down. “And what was he doing in your room this morning?”
“Oh, right, I forgot you don’t know about Bobby. The pigeon,” I explained. “A very persistent character. Coos a lot.”
“I beg your pardon?” She shot me the most unimpressed gaze. “Are you having a schizo episode or something?”
“I’m dead serious, Mum,” I said with a raised brow, finally sipping on my cup, “those two really need to get a room.”
“You know,” she slightly shook her head, “you do really worry me sometimes.”
Wrapped in a silk robe, I followed my mother onto the patio.
The two of us nestled comfortably into the chairs.
Taking a deep breath, my head slowly tilted back, welcoming the warmth of the sunshine, a pleasant balmy breeze caressing my skin.
Eyes closed, my mind slowly taking me back to last night.
‘Harvest Moon’ played in the background while Miles and I sat in an awkward silence.
Something about you.
What did that even mean?
And then, when the song ended, I quickly shot up.
So did he. God, I swore it was so much easier before, when he had been acting like a total dick.
Now, suddenly, he wasn’t, and I didn’t know how to go about that.
“Um, I’m going to bed,” I blurted out, and then, realising it might have sounded like an invitation, I added, “alone,” and made it even worse.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, a faint smile forming on his lips, “I got that.”
“Well…” Quickly glancing at him, I muttered “Bye then,” and made my escape like a coward.
All at once, my body shuddered at the thought of last night. God, why did I have to be so awkward?
“Miles seems like a decent young man.”
A beat of silence followed before I could respond. “Excuse me, what?” I asked, last night’s embarrassment creeping a blush onto my cheeks.
“Miles seems like a decent young man,” my mum repeated, her tone nonchalant yet attentive, her eyes peeking from behind the newspaper in her hands. “Wouldn’t you agree?” Ugh, not that again.
“Yes.” I shot my knowing gaze at her. “I would.”
“Are you enjoying his company?” she asked, slowly lowering the pages, glancing at me from under her reading glasses.
“Um…Mum—” I cleared my throat. “—talking about Miles, or my love life, isn’t exactly how I want to spend my morning.”
“Well,” she murmured, her tone soft yet persuasive, “given that even your pigeons have a more amorous life than you, perhaps, you should.”
“Mum?!” I gasped defensively.
“Don’t tell me the idea hasn’t crossed your mind, Florence?” she asked, yet it didn’t feel like a question. Then, as she looked me in the eye, she challenged, “Not even once?”
I swallowed.
See, on a normal day I would do anything to prove my mother wrong, but then, suddenly, there were those penetrating thoughts, intrusive ones.
They were completely invading my mind and making me doubt my sanity because for once I did not object to her.
And, indeed, for a very brief moment that thought did cross my mind.
And what scared me was that…what if she wasn’t entirely wrong?
“Seriously, Florence,” she snapped after the long pause, flipping the pages and opening the newspaper to the last one, “he’s a catch. Smart, tall, good genetics—just imagine the kids you two could create.”
“Oh my God!” I immediately rolled my eyes. “Maybe you should date him if you like him so much!”
“Good morning!” A sudden rumble reached us from behind. Speaking of the devil.
“Oh, look, Mum,” I whispered before glancing back, “your boyfriend is here.”
Ignoring my remark, she turned to face him with a smile. “What’s with everyone being up so early today? Would you like some coffee, Miles? I’m just going to refill my cup.”
“Um, sure, Elizabeth, that would be lovely.”
“Indeed,” she murmured, turning on her heel and making her way towards the house.
“Hey.” He took a seat next to me.
“Hey.” I offered him a quick nod.
“How did you sleep?”
“Yeah…good, except for Bobby’s intrusive cooing at my window.”
“I beg your pardon?!” His brows jumped in confusion.
“Bobby,” I explained. “The pigeon.”
“Ah,” he mumbled, eyebrows still arched. “So,” he slumped his shoulders against the back of the chair, hand swiftly brushing the ice-blond strands of his hair, “good genetics, huh?”
Sipping on my coffee, I suddenly froze mid-motion and my eyes darted at him. “You heard?!”
“Ahem,” he hummed, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“Oh my God!” I threw my head back. “Look, I’m so sorry.” I turned to face him. “No doubt she is a huge fan of yours. But I will talk to her and make it clear that this—” I gestured between the two of us. “The whole matchmaking scheme…is never going to happen.”
“Um,” Miles cleared his throat, slightly furrowing. “Yeah…cool. Thanks!”
“Florence?” my mother reappeared, gracing us with her smile.
“Yeah?”
“There’s this gorgeous piece of porcelain at the antique shop I saw the other day.” She went on. “I thought we could check it out together. What does your afternoon look like?”
Porcelain, huh? No thanks.
Now here, I had to be very careful with my responses if I wanted to avoid the pleasure of my mother’s company.
“It depends,” I said, forcing a smile.
“On?” she asked, taking her seat, two mugs of coffee in her hands.
“Thanks, Elizabeth,” Miles offered, taking the mug.
“On,” I continued, feigning confusion, “what afternoon are we exactly talking about?”
“Well, I obviously mean today.” She stared at me. “Would I mean any other day, I would be more specific.”
“See, I wasn’t sure,” I mumbled.
“Now that we have finally established which day we are talking about?” She raised a questioning eyebrow, patiently waiting for the answer.
“Oh, right!” I drawled. “ That I will have to check with my diary.”
“Checking now would be lovely!”
“It’s okay, Florence,” Miles blurted out, cutting in, his words catching me off guard, “we can just reschedule for another day.”
Huh? Hold on , I thought. Let me rewind a second. What was he talking about?
Confused, I stared at him. He, too, shot a knowing glance at me, offering a quick smile. And then the fog in my brain cleared at once.
You see, that’s where Miles took my mother’s bait, because he, the gallant knight in shining armour, sprang from his horse just in time for my rescue.
Oh, no! Oh, no! Mission abort! That was her plan all along. My eyes locked onto his. Silently, I tried to warn him.
“Reschedule what?” my mother asked.
“See, Elizabeth,” he started, “there is this vinyl record shop Florence desperately wanted to take me to.”
Desperately? Excuse me, what?
I took a second, longer look at him.
“More like he begged me to show it to him,” I blurted with a hesitant smile, falling for the same trap.
“Well.” He swayed his hand in front of me. “I might beg a little.”
“Down on his knees.”
Miles rolled his eyes at me. “Maybe one.”
“Oh, I remember,” I said playfully, “There definitely were two.”
“Well then.” Carefully observing, my mother’s amused gaze flickered between the two of us as she finally said, “I’m sure porcelain could wait. And you know what, since you two are going there anyway, there’s one vinyl I was hoping you might check for me too?”
Of course…
At this point I wasn’t sure what was worse: a vinyl record hunt with Miles or the porcelain antique shopping with my mother. Oh, who was I kidding, it was definitely the latter.
***
“Miles?” I glanced at him.
“Yeah?” He turned to face me.
“You know we don’t really have to do this?” I sighed, settling into the front seat of his car. “She knows we made it up and she knows that we know she knows it.”
“Truth be told,” he chuckled, amused, “I didn’t even realise when I swallowed that hook.”
“Yeah,” I smiled. “That’s Elizabeth Grant for you, Miles. Never take her for…well, you get it.”
“Wow.” He let out a short laugh.
“If you want you could just drop me somewhere in town,” I said, fastening the seat belt. “I’m sure you have better things to do. With Mark or whatever. I’ll get the vinyl…and tell her you were, well…” I turned my gaze at him.
“Charming?” Miles smirked, his eyes gleaming as he fixed his gaze upon me.
“Hmm.” I pressed my lips together in a slow smile, teasing him with my silence. Then I said, “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” he asked, amused.
“Yeah…”
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.
“Well.” The corners of my mouth spread wider. “I guess you could have been charming, yes!”
A grin broke across his face. “Oh, trust me, I could have.” Okay, what is going on here?
“And you even got me an ice cream?” I laughed.
“What flavour?”
“Right,” I mumbled. “We need to set the records straight. Let it be strawberry.”
“Is that what you like?” he asked, leaning just an inch closer.
“No, my favourite is chocolate, but they were all out, so I went with that.”
Miles glanced at me, impressed.
“You see,” I explained, “after years of living in that house, you have to be really prepared.”
“In that case—” An eyebrow raised with a question. “—did I get an ice cream too?”
“Did you?” I narrowed my gaze at him.
“Hmm, I suppose I could.”
“Alright!” I shifted in my seat, facing him. “What did you have?”
“A scoop of mint would be just right.”
“Ew, that’s gross. Seriously?”
“What’s wrong with that?” he furrowed, glancing at me.
“I honestly have no idea why she’d even think we could be a match,” I muttered.