Chapter 21 #2
“And I come in a half hour later, and…” Kit laughs and shakes his head.
I can see traces of Dean around his eyes and the shape of his face.
“Neroli and Tippi had their tea set out, white with pink flowers, and all five of them are sat around that pink plastic table. And Tippi is putting hair clips in Leo’s hair, and these are glittery li’l motherfuckers - sorry, angel,” he says as Wendy slaps his arm.
“And Neroli’s bossin’ Eli into pouring her more ‘princess tea’, and then she turns to Dean…
” Kit cracks up again, and Dean smothers a smile as he shakes his head and hides his eyes.
Eli laughs and claps his hands, and Leo shouts, “MRS SPARKLES! I’d forgotten about that! ”
“Mrs Sparkles?” I look at Dean with a raised eyebrow. “ Who is Mrs Sparkles?”
He’s going a bit pink, and mouths, You’re dead , to his father through silent chuckles.
“So Dean is sat there, and he’s wearing pink, like, flamingo pink lipstick all around his mouth, and thick blue stripes on his eyelids, and he’s got glitter raining down from his hair every time he moves his head.”
“Aww!” I stroke his hair back from his head, and he subtly leans into my touch for a split second.
“And then Neroli turns to him and says…” And Kit, Eli, and Leo say in unison, “More tea, Mrs Sparkles?”
We all lose it, laughter ringing around Leo’s garden.
I must say, he has a hell of a nice place: a long garden with a neat lawn and a perfectly clean, top-of-the-range barbecue under a wooden shelter.
His house is larger than I was expecting, a terraced townhouse on the outskirts of Foxton-on-Sea with three floors.
The walls are plain white, but the furnishings are eclectic and tasteful in a quietly expensive way.
Our host is clearly doing well running Wishbone.
Leo’s watching Sadie surreptitiously, and so is Wendy.
Sadie’s smiling along with everyone, and contributing a mild wisecrack here and there, same as always, but there’s a set to her jaw like she’s gritting her teeth in determination to carry on as normal.
There are purple shadows under her eyes, heavy lidded with tiredness, and she keeps fiddling with a loose thread on her jumper while the thread of the conversation keeps slipping away from her.
I’d bet money she doesn’t really want to be here, but also doesn’t want to miss out. She needs a break.
“Sadie, can I borrow you for a minute? I wanted your opinion on a tattoo idea I have for our next session.” Wendy stands and holds her hand out to her, and Sadie gives her a grateful look before taking it.
They head into the kitchen, and I can’t miss the way Leo looks longingly in their direction.
“And what do you think Dean says?” Kit asks me.
I shake my head, unable to hazard a guess.
“He says, ‘Dad, I lost a bet with Neroli. And a Gastright pays his debts.’ I damn near pissed my pants laughing.” His eyes are alight with mirth, and dang, if Dean ages as well as his father, I’ll be a lucky woman.
Huh . I guess I’m thinking in terms of the future, then.
OK, so be it.
Dean looks a little wistful, and I wonder if it’s odd or sad for him to remember times when he could talk with his mouth instead of his hands.
By the time Sadie and Wendy return about twenty minutes later, talk has moved on to music.
Kit is telling us about taking Wendy to see The Rolling Stones back in the eighties, and he and I are bonding over Little Red Rooster as Wendy smiles to hear what we’re talking about.
Sadie looks watery eyed, but a little brighter.
I’m thinking she got a thorough mothering with a side order of pep talk.
I imagine Wendy’s amazing at that. She’s been unendingly cheerful and friendly and gracious from the moment I met her.
“Right, I think it’s time for Liaden’s lovely cake,” Wendy declares, and touches my shoulder. “Shall we go and cut it, sweetie?” she asks me with a friendly smile.
“Absolutely.” Dean squeezes my hand under the table, and I get knowing smiles from the girls.
I guess this is the part where I get one on one time with my boyfriend’s mother for the first time.
I’ve not done this kind of thing before.
I hope I do well. Maybe if I mentally frame it as a job interview?
I’m good at those. Though I can’t imagine reciting my qualifications and work experience is going to impress her much.
She gives me a kind look once we’re in the kitchen, but I’m still nervous. I want her to like me more than I’ve ever wanted anyone else to. I want her to know I’m not going to piss about with her boy’s heart, any more than I’d throw myself into a rumbling volcano.
“Your King cake really does look lovely,” she reassures me.
“Thanks,” I say, “I hope it passes muster.”
“The plates are in the cupboard by the refrigerator,” she says with a nod in that general direction. I grab them all - there are plenty - and set them down next to her.
“He’s happier.” Her voice is soft. “I can see it, plain as day. There’s a lightness to him I haven’t seen in a very long time.
” She squeezes my hand. “Thank you for that. I have a feeling it’s one hundred percent down to you.
” I love the soft Louisiana twang in her speech.
It makes everything she says sound even more sincere.
“It’s my pleasure. Dean is…well, he’s your son, you know he’s amazing.”
She beams. “He sure is. It’s so hard to be away from him all the time, but I know my boys look after him.” She grins. “They’re all my boys, whether I birthed them or not.”
I think about how Leo dotes on her, and the way Eli’s eyes soften when she talks. She could be all of their mothers, the way they react to each other. She could be the link that makes them brothers.
“I hear you’re learning ASL for him?”
“I am.”
“Thank you for doing that.” She glances at me. “How are you finding it? Must be fairly straightforward for a language expert? ”
“It is, thankfully. I’m confident with it now, though there’s plenty left to learn. Occasionally he’ll have to spell a word for me, but that’s a good way to learn a new sign.”
She nods. “We learned it as a family project. Eli started first, and then we all went to the same classes. I still try to keep it up, and I volunteer as a translator occasionally back home, so I don’t forget it while he’s not around.”
“That’s a great way to stay confident with it.” I look at the plates, realising we haven’t made a move to serve up the cake. “Which is the cutlery drawer?”
“Hmm? Oh - it’s that one,” she says, pointing to the one under where the toaster sits. I find a knife, and she takes it from me, slicing the cake up with admirable precision, silent and thoughtful.
“I’ll never forget that night,” she says suddenly, pausing.
It’s immediately obvious which night she means, so she has my undivided attention.
I need to know this stuff. Her warm, happy eyes have dimmed, thrown back to the night every parent’s worst nightmare came true for her.
“We…Callie’s parents and Kit and me, I mean…
You do know about Callie?” She glances at me, making sure, and I reassure her that I do.
She relaxes. “We were all having dinner together, and then we got word that shots were heard at the school…and none of us hesitated, we all just ran to Kit’s Jeep, and pedal to the metal, I’m tellin’ ya.
” Her mouth trembles slightly as she stares, unseeing, at the table.
“The school was surrounded by terrified parents, just like us, and the cops wouldn’t let us go near the place.
They were just doing their job, trying to make sure the scene was safe enough to…
” She swallows. “But I wanted to kill them for not letting me in. Not letting me run in there, find my son, and pull him out of there myself.” She shakes her head.
“They corralled us as best they could in the Methodist church next door, and so many people were yelling and crying, but eventually…” A small shiver runs over her skin, and she’s a little paler.
“Eventually, they came in, and they called out a few names of the children. One of them was Dean’s.
” Her voice cracks, and she dashes away a small tear under her eye.
“Sorry, I’ve never been able to talk about this part without at least a few tears,” she says sadly, and I hug her.
Hard. I just can’t help myself, and I’m relieved when she responds straight away by hugging me back.
“There were only a handful of names, so few, I was sure that meant they were the ones who had been murdered. Kit had to hold me up as we walked out of that church, because my legs were shaking so hard. I was so sure they were going to tell me that my son was…” She gulps again.
“But they didn’t. They told me he was still alive, and at the hospital, and that we needed to get there…
and then I heard it.” She straightens, letting me go.
“The hundreds of parents still in the church…when they were told that they were the unlucky ones, not us…the howls of grief and pain… I’ve never heard a sound like it, before or since, and I sincerely hope I never will again. ”
We share a look, and I feel a profound sense of understanding.
About the love she has for Dean, and the hope she has for him, and how I am now a part of that hope.
“I’ll never hurt him,” I say softly, taking the statement one hundred percent seriously.
Whatever she’s looking for in my eyes, she seems to find, as I am once again wrapped in a Mom cuddle.
“I know,” she whispers back.
After a few moments, there’s a knock at the door. When we both look up, Dean’s smiling at us both warmly. Sorry to interrupt, he says.
“No problem, sweetheart,” Wendy says, squeezing my shoulders, “I was just getting to know the wonderful young woman you have here.”
I glow.
You bet your…bottom dollar I do , he replies with a cheeky grin as she swats him with a tea towel.
“I know you were about to say ‘ass’ to your mother,” she grumbles, but she’s smiling as she says it.
Just want to borrow Liaden real quick, he says, taking my hand and leading me out of the room. I wave briefly to his mother and let myself be pulled along.
He takes me through a door by the entrance, which leads to a utility room with what appears to be a downstairs bathroom tacked on.
Before I can ask him what’s up, he’s kissing me, hard and slow and deep, like I’m being enjoyed.
He pulls me closer, and I melt against him, hauling air through my nose but still enjoying the rush of this intimacy with him.
He starts to lift the skirt of my dress, pulling at my knickers. Wait. Surely he’s not intending to…
He pulls harder, and the lace briefly digs into my hips before the gusset is completely ripped.
“Hey, stop,” I say against his mouth. “Wait a minute.” He stays stock still, looking at me like he’s confused. “Not here,” I say, a little incredulous, chuckling nervously. “Your family is right outside.”
They can’t hear us, he signs with one hand, and leans in again with a smile.
I place my hands on his chest, stopping him. “I just…don’t feel comfortable,” I say, gently but firmly. “Not right now.”
He frowns slightly, and backs off. There’s a look in his eyes I’ve never seen before, brief but unmistakable.
Annoyance.
“Hey,” I josh him, surprised. My hands cup his face. “We can do that later. Don’t get mad because I said no. That’s…not OK.” I search his eyes. “What’s with you?”
His eyes clear, and are filled with contrition. I’m sorry , he says immediately, I didn’t mean…I’ve just missed you, that’s all. And I want you so bad.
I relent. He’s still getting used to having a sex life.
He needs a little grace when he reacts instinctively to disappointment.
And I’m going to need to make sure that I stay understanding and patient going forward.
This isn’t your typical affair, and he’s one thousand million percent worth it.
“No worries, honey. It’s great to be wanted,” I joke, giving him a kiss on the nose. “Come on, let’s head back.”
He pauses, but takes my hand when I offer it.