How did she get so much money?
And whose clothes were those men’s clothes in my closet and, I might add, drawers? There were jeans, t-shirts, suits, dress shirts, shoes, boots, underwear, the whole enchilada. Not many but enough to spell trouble.
Something was wrong and I didn’t want to be home alone without Tor whenever that something walked into my apartment.
I only hoped that whoever he was, he went with her when she went back like Tor came with me.
I finished tidying, scouring, wiping and vacuuming and when I finished, I took a shower, lotioned with my lotion, blow-dried my hair and put on a pair of jeans and a University of Puget Sound sweatshirt.
The clothes of Tor’s world rocked but I had to admit, it felt nice to be in a pair of jeans.
Then I sat down by the phone.
Priorities.
My parents.
“Sweetie!” my Mom cried when she heard my voice and I was relieved I wasn’t disowned. I was also close to tears just hearing her voice. I loved my Mom. “My God, where have you been? The last three times I talked to you, you said you were in a rush and you had to go, you’d call me back. Why haven’t you been calling me back?”
“Uh…”
“And who was that sexy-voiced man who answered the phone, at eleven thirty at night, I might add?”
Oh dear.
“Well –” I started.
“Damn, now I’m in a rush,” Mom cut me off. “Your father is having car problems and he’s stuck out by the bridge. You know, he won’t get rid of that dratted Volvo. I keep telling him, it’s done. He has to let it go. He’s had it for sixteen years! I keep telling he can buy a hybrid, they’re good for the environment or, at least, not as bad as other cars. I mean, does he want to be buried in that Volvo, for God’s sake?”
Dad and his Volvo. Why did discussing this, again (we’d discussed it, like, seven hundred thousand times – Mom freaking hated that Volvo) also make me want to cry?
“So, now, I have to beg off but you’re coming to dinner,” she carried on. “You’re doing it tomorrow night. I don’t care what you have going on. And you’re bringing Mr. Sexy Voice with you. I know my girl and he is why we aren’t hearing from you. I’m so pleased you’ve moved on from Brian. You know, your father and I always thought he was a bit of an idiot. Then again, any man who wouldn’t hold onto my beautiful, sweet, funny girl is an idiot.”
Oh man, totally going to cry.
“Plus,” she went on, “there is the small fact Brian voted for Bush.”
“Mom –”
“Gotta go! Our house. Tomorrow. Six. With your man. See you then! Love you, sweetie.”
Then she was gone.
I stared at the receiver then I hit the off button. The instant I did, it rang in my hand and I jumped.
Bracing (because it could be anything), I hit the on button and greeted hesitantly, “Hello?”
“Forgot to ask, sweetie, does your man not eat anything? I mean, is he a vegetarian or something?” Mom enquired.
Tor killed two Thumpers for our first dinner together. The man was so not a vegetarian it wasn’t funny and yet I burst out laughing. Probably hysterically.
Through my laughter, I said, “Uh, no Mom. He’s definitely not a vegetarian.”
“Oh, okay, well, anything else he doesn’t eat?”
I controlled my hilarity and started, “Mom, I need to explain –”
“Explain tomorrow, over wine. Now I have to know this and get your father. Is there something he doesn’t eat?”