actual concern.”
“You’re wrong. You were the sweetest little boy.”
Not words designed to make him comfortable. He shifted his gaze to the vase. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“I made sure not to pick any poisonous ones. At least I’m fairly sure I was careful.” She studied her hands, then raised them and showed him both sides. “No rash.”
“Declan does have a sense of humor when it comes to plants.” Not that anything was actually deadly, but there were a few species one had to be careful with.
He returned his attention to his mother. She sat comfortably in her chair and showed no signs of leaving. He bowed to the inevitable.
“How are you liking your lessons?”
“They’re much better now. Margot and I have an understanding. She’s taking me to a beauty pageant. I’ve never been to one. Of course I’ve seen them on television, but this will be different. The contestants are younger. Junior high age, I think.”
“What is the purpose of the exercise?”
Bianca waved her hand. “Something about something. I wasn’t really paying attention. She’ll explain it to me again when we go. She’s very thorough that way. We’re also looking for some kind of event where I can practice my social skills. She’s trying to get me to go to a charity function but I was thinking it should be edgier than that.”
Alec felt the beginning of a headache. “Edgier?”
“Yes, like a political fund-raiser. People aren’t on their best behavior there. It would be more appealing to me. Besides, Wesley works for a government, not a nonprofit.”
She had a point, which was always terrifying.
“How is Wesley?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.
“Wonderful. The man of my dreams. We’re blissfully happy. What do you think of Margot?”
As always, when it came to his mother, it took him a second to catch up. “No,” he said firmly, when her meaning sank in. “Just no.”
His mother’s smile turned smug. “She’s very beautiful, in a quiet way, which I imagine would be appealing to you. She’s smart and reasonable. I would think you two would be well suited.”
“No. Don’t meddle in my personal life.”
“You don’t have a personal life, which is exactly my point. Margot is lovely. As far as I can tell, she isn’t seeing anyone. I know this violates your rule about sex in your own house, but darling, please, you need a woman. And you have one, right under your nose.” She smiled again. “So to speak.”
“Stop. Just stop.”
“I’m sure she would say yes. From what I’ve heard from a couple of your previous lovers, you’re actually very considerate in bed and are quite skilled when it comes to the female orgasm, so there’s no worry on that front.”
He wasn’t even shocked. That, he supposed, was nearly the worst of it. Not being shocked at all. This simply was—as it had always been—his mother in action.
“I will not go there with you,” he said firmly.
She rose and winked. “That’s fine, darling, as long as you go there with someone. I’m just saying, she’s right upstairs. Take a risk and see what happens.”
He pointed to the door. She laughed as she walked out, leaving him alone. Only the comfort and serenity of that state had been lost. Now all he could think about was Margot and the very likely scenario that his mother had had a similar conversation with her.
* * *
Sunshine arrived at the tutoring session fifteen minutes early. It was being held in a small classroom with only about fifteen desks. They’d already been pulled into a circle, so she took one by the door and wrestled out her massive textbook and her homework.
They were in chapter three, studying graphs and functions, and it was not going well. She understood how to rewrite an equation to make it a standard form of a linear equation, but the graphing part still didn’t make sense. The professor had already done a surprise homework collection, so Sunshine had passed that, but she’d only gotten a C minus on the first quiz, which had been disheartening. She’d studied for two days and hadn’t done better than that?
The room filled up. Two o’clock came and went and there was no TA. Finally at two-ten, a scruffy looking guy in his midtwenties strolled in.
“Whassup?” he asked, slumping into the chair at the last desk and yawning. “Okay, I’m Ron. I’m a grad student at UCLA and I only do this for the money. You have thirty minutes, people, so let’s not waste my time. Ask your