Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
MOTHER KNOWS BEST
After leaving MacKenzie at the jewelry store, I walk to the nearby parking ramp where I’ve parked my car.
I slide into the driver seat as I slip off my hoodie, grab the navy cashmere sweater on the seat, and slide it over my head.
Next I grab the black leather bomber jacket and pull it on.
The jacket used to belong to my dad, and the leather is perfectly worn and soft.
It’s challenging to change in the front seat while trying to maneuver my big body, but I get it done.
I kick off my old Converse athletic shoes and slip on the Ferragamo loafers Mom bought me for Christmas last month.
Once I’ve changed, I head to the restaurant to meet my mom and my baby sister, Perri, for Mom’s birthday dinner.
I could have probably gotten away with wearing the hoodie and my athletic shoes, but I’d rather not see that look on Mom’s face.
She turns sixty today, and she’s not going to be happy about it, so I’ll just play along and dress the part.
I pull up to Bavette’s Bar Dad made sure of that. Couple that with the fact she makes good money as a scientist and researcher for a pharmaceutical company based in Chicago. She’s just cheap, er, I mean, frugal.
Mom smiles at me in a way only she can, knowingly. “So how do you know her, Samuel?”
“I don’t really know her well. I’ve only just met her.”
“Really? Is she pretty?”
Here we go. Mom won’t be happy until I’ve settled down with two-point-five kids. “Very.” The less I say, the better.
“Interesting,” she says as the waiter returns with our salads.
I’m not sure what interesting means, but I’m not going to ask about it either. My mom is tenacious on a bad day, so when she gets something in her head, it’s best to change the subject. I don’t need a sixty-year-old matchmaker breathing down my neck.
“So, Perri. How’s work?” I ask, knowing my sister will take over. She’s got a love-hate relationship with her boss, Duncan.
“Ugh, don’t get me started. Listen to what the jackass, Duncan, did today…” I got her started.
You know, I actually think she has a thing for Duncan, but if I said that aloud, she’d throw her buttered roll at me, and I don’t want butter on my cashmere sweater.
Before I know it, dessert comes, and Mom is threatening our lives if we try to sing the happy birthday song.
“Come on, Mom. You only turn forty a few times.” I chuckle.
“I’m sixty, and you know it. I’m fine with sixty. Sixty’s the new fifty. Haven’t you heard?”
“I have heard that. I don’t get how it works, but I suppose when I turn forty, I’ll get what you mean. Forty’s the new thirty, right?”
“Right!” exclaims my mom. “Perri, you’re going to be thirty-two next month, right?”
“Yep,” she says, popping the p sound. “Yippee,” she deadpans.
“I think MacKenzie is about your age.” Oh, shit. Why did I just say that out loud? That just gave Mom fodder.
“Really?” she asks with a devious smile on her face. “I thought you didn’t know her very well. Or was it… you just met her? I can’t remember.”
“I don’t know her very well, and I just met her.” There, that should shut her up.
“So, did you investigate her?” asks Perri. “Are you being a creeper?”
I must look guilty, because she screeches, “Jeesh, you must really like her.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not a creeper, Jesus. I don’t know her. I do know about her, though.”
Perri chuckles. “Stalker.”
“I’m not a stalker.”
“Son, calm down. There’s more to this story than you’re telling us, and that’s fine. We know we’ll get it out of you in time.” She turns to my sister. “Won’t we, Perri?”
“We will. We always do.”
“Grrrr,” I groan. “Why me?”
“Because, Samuel, we love you and want you to be happy.”
“Mom, I am happy. Very happy.” That’s not really true. I’m not very happy. I’m just sort of happy.
I hug them both as we exit the restaurant. I hand the valet all three of our tickets. They bring Mom’s car first. I open her door and help her inside. “Happy birthday, Mom. I love you,” I say as I kiss her cheek.
“I love you more, sweetheart. See you soon.” She shuts the door and drives away, leaving Perri and me to wait.
As soon as Mom is gone, Perri turns to me and says, “Call me. I want the whole story, big brother.”
I nod. She’s going to want to know everything about MacKenzie Parker, and I’m the idiot who’s going to tell her. She’s my kryptonite, my little Perrianna.