Expecting some sort of homeowner-related disaster, I didn’t see any obvious call for concern, only a red Subaru hatchback idling the driveway. Smoke from the tailpipe puffed lazily in the chilly morning air, and the mellow tunes of James Taylor music drifted through the closed windows. Glare from the sun prevented me from seeing who was in the car. “Angry neighbor?” I asked.
Eric shook his head. “Worse. It’s your mother.”
“Uh oh.” We exchanged glances as she made no attempt to exit the car. “Guess I’d better go talk to her. Unless you want to?”
He barked a laugh. “Yeah. No.” Shooting a look at the car, he pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “See you later,” he said and beat a coward’s retreat to the safety of his car.
Well aware that I was wearing a borrowed sweatshirt and the clothing Eric had loaned me last night, the T-shirt with his last name on the back and sweatpants that were too big for me, I headed to the car.
The passenger’s side window slid down with a quiet whir as I approached. Elton John sang about tiny dancers.
I leaned down to stick my head in the window. “Good morning, mother.”
“Good morning, son,” she replied.
“I supposed it’s silly of me to ask how you knew I’d be here.”
“As if you’d be anywhere else.” She motioned me into the car with a jerk of her head. “Get in. I’ve got some errands to run and I want the company.”
Only years of dissembling kept me from wincing. “I have some business to take care of this morning. Maybe we could get together for lunch later?”
“Get in the car, Jake.”
I got in the car.
I placed the bag that held my clothes from the previous evening into the backseat. My mother commandeered my coffee, declaring it perfect. For some reason, the fact we took it the same way, weak with too much flavored creamer, made me happy.
We drove without speaking for a while. I was the first to cave. “Where are going?”
“Grocery store, post office, bank, dry cleaners. The usual.”
And it was the usual. I felt like I was ten years old again and stuck in the backseat with Sammy, trying to find ways to amuse ourselves and begging for food or drinks or a snack every fifteen minutes as my mother tried to make the most of her limited free time. Those trips had always ended with ice cream and a stop at the playground. I doubted this one would.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” I asked.
“You come home for the first time in forever and you think I have something better to do than spend time with you?” she answered while pulling into the post office parking lot. “I had a feeling I’d have to tear you away from Eric if I wanted to see you alone.”
She parked and got out of the car. I followed her not quite like a man walking to the gallows, more like a kid getting called into the principal’s office.
As I did, I scanned the parking lot and building for cameras, finding more than I was completely comfortable with. I hoped that any facial recognition algorithms searching for me were low enough priority that I wouldn’t be identified immediately. I flipped up the hood of the borrowed sweatshirt and kept my head down. Maybe it would make a little difference.
The post office was surprisingly busy. Who used the post office anymore? What were all these people doing here? Some were mailing packages, but others, like my mother, were empty-handed.
“So, how are you and Eric getting along?” she asked. “You spent the night?”
“Um, fine, I guess. We haven’t spent a lot of time together. I’ve only been in town for a day.”
“You certainly got…reacquainted…quickly,” she said with a pointed look at my neck.
I resisted the urge to slap my hand over the small bruise Eric had left there.
“Eric’s only been back for town for a few months, and all of sudden here you are, on my doorstep. Quite a coincidence.” Her tone insinuated it was anything but.
Oh, well-played mother. First trap me in the car and then question me in public. “Total coincidence, I assure you.”
She snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m just surprised it took you this long.”
“Fine. I couldn’t come any sooner,” I confessed.
“Are you ever going to tell me what you’ve been up to?” she asked.
“Probably not. You really want to know?”
The young woman in the University of Vermont hoodie standing behind me certainly