Icing

by Jami Davenport

  “Thanks.” I attributed my laid-back attitude to Cin, but Mom didn’t really know about her. I’d avoided any further discussion of her since the initial one, and my mom hadn’t brought her up, assuming I’d probably already moved on to someone else, a logical assumption considering my track record.

  I invited her into the condo and offered her a cup of tea, grateful Cin kept some in the cupboard. Herc heaved himself out of bed and waddled over. When he approached her, mom gave him one of her stern Mom looks. He sat down on his fat ass and stared up at her as if he’d fallen in love. Mom shooed him away, and he trotted back to bed, not one grumble out of him. Mom had that effect on man and beast.

  “I’m thrilled to see you, but I’m surprised. What’re you doing here?” I asked as I handed her the mug of tea. I didn’t know if we had teacups, so this would have to do. My mom wouldn’t care. She didn’t have problems with stuff like that.

  “I’m in town for work. I didn’t think I’d get time to see you, so I didn’t let you know, but things worked out, so I thought I’d stop by.”

  Her words reminded me of something I’d heard on the news this morning. “The president was in town. In fact, didn’t he just leave an hour or so ago?”

  She shrugged, as if it were no concern of hers. “I have no idea.”

  My mom was politically connected to the powers that be in DC, but I had no more insight than that. For once, I wanted to know more about her and what she did. “Mom, what exactly is your job for the government?”

  “A little bit of this and a little bit of that,” she said evasively with a placating smile that reminded me of the Mona Lisa. I wasn’t up on fine art, but what moron didn’t know what Mona Lisa looked like?

  “You know that’s not an answer.”

  “It’s as good of one as you’re going to get. The real answer is complicated.”

  “My teammates think you’re a spy or with the Secret Service or something.” I waited for her to repudiate the claim.

  “Or something is the best answer. All you need to know is that it pays me well, I love the job, and I am serving our country.”

  That wasn’t much of an answer, but she wasn’t giving me more than that. She never gave me more than that. I guess having a secretive badass mom that all my friends speculated about wasn’t such a bad thing and earned me some street cred.

  “Tell me what’s new with you.”

  When we were face-to-face like this, being deceptive or evasive was impossible, so I told her the truth. “Mom, I have a girlfriend.” I blurted out the truth before I had the wherewithal to stop myself. She’d have gotten it out of me anyway.

  She wasn’t surprised, which surprised me. “The same one you mentioned before?”

  “Yes.” I was affronted by her question, even though it was an honest one considering my track record with women.

  “You talked to me once about her, but the two of you were getting on each other’s nerves. How long have you been dating her and keeping me in the dark?” I doubted my mother had been in the dark. She always knew stuff.

  “About a month.” A lecture was coming, and I braced myself. Mom didn’t like being out of the loop. Usually, I told her everything, but not about Cin, even though we talked often.

  “Then this is serious?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re not denying it, so it has to be serious.

  “It’s too early to tell. I’m not one to rush into anything.”

  “Don’t I know that. You’re like your father, a planner.”

  “I am, and she’s not. And her activism and lack of ambition toward doing anything else bothers me.”

  “Because you’re a rule follower, and you aren’t out to change the world, just live in it.”

  I started to protest, but she cut me off. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’m not judging. Sometimes people need to get out of their rut, though, and experience new things. But there are some concerns…”

  “Mom, did you check her out?”

  “I might’ve done some research.”

  “And what did your research tell you?” My mom could find out anything about anyone. She probably knew more about Cin’s background than I did.

  “Her mother is well known as an extremist and not above breaking the law to prove her point. Cin herself has been arrested once during a protest.”

  “She was? What did she do?”

  “Nothing major. Trespassing on private property. She’s involved in a group in Seattle, which has always been peaceful but lately has been trending toward extremist. Be careful, Steele. Don’t get wrapped up with someone who might end up dragging you down. Opposites attract, but the staying power often isn’t there.”

  “Last time you were encouraging me to spread my wings and have a relationship.”

  “I still am. Go in with your eyes wide open.”

  “I want you to meet her. Can you go to my game tonight? I can arrange for the two of you to have seats on the glass.”

  “Absolutely. I want to meet her.”

  Of course she did. My mom knew how to get things out of people without them knowing what she was doing. Cin wouldn’t stand a chance with my mom’s special brand of benign interrogation.

  “I need to go and take care of a few loose ends. Can you leave the tickets at will call?”

  “Absolutely. If you can stick around for a little while longer, you can meet Cin before the game. She should be back anytime.” I’d just told my mom a lie. I never knew when Cin was coming home. She didn’t operate on a schedule. Her gone for an hour was more than likely gone for three hours. She often went off on a tangent.

  My mom shook her head. “I need to be going. I’ll meet her at the game. I’ll be free to join you for a late dinner afterward. You’ll both get to see plenty of me.”

  We hugged and Mom left. I hopped on the stationary bicycle in the corner of the living room by the big windows and began to pedal, my mind mulling over my mom’s warning. I’d had the same trepidations about Cin, especially lately. She was keeping something from me, and damned if I knew what it was.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Two Worlds

  ~~Hyacinth~~

  I admit it. Big, badass me was afraid to meet Steele’s mom.

  I couldn’t recall when meeting someone had ever made me this nervous, but here I was with stomach rolling and insides quaking. I was so nervous, I arrived early, which never happened. The plan was to secure my seat before she arrived. In my mind, being first gave me a tactical advantage. I scouted the area, the seating, and watched for her. I’d size her up before she ever saw me.

  At least, being on the offensive had been my plan, which might’ve been a problem in itself. I wasn’t known for my successful plans or for following any plan.

  I didn’t know what his mother looked like, but I felt deep in my bones that I’d recognize her when I saw her. Steele had filled me in a little. Her name was Carol. She was tall and slender with dark hair and blue eyes. He got his gray eyes from his father.

  I sipped beer from my paper cup and fretted she might judge me for having a beer. I needed this beer, though, to calm my frayed nerves, despite the first impression drinking might make. If she judged me negatively based on one beer, then I had bigger problems than that.

  As much as I loved watching Steele in his element, I struggled to concentrate on warm-ups. I continually glanced behind me, looking for Mrs. Bailey, while I should’ve been taking in the moment. I’d never sat at the glass before. The action was right in front of me. Steele skated by and tapped on the glass in front of my face with a huge grin on his face. I returned the grin. He skated off. He’d interrupted his routine momentarily to acknowledge me. I didn’t expect him to do it again. Might mess with his mojo. The three women sitting behind me noticed our little exchange and giggled and chattered about what they’d seen.

  “That’s his girlfriend,” one whispered.

  “She’s so lucky,” said another.

 
“Seeing him up close is divine,” the last one giggled. At least they were nice and not catty. I turned and smiled at them. They smiled back.

  “Hello,” said a measuredly polite female voice from next to me. I jumped. The one time I let down my guard, Steele’s mother had magically appeared next to me.

  “Hi,” I croaked as I gazed up at her.

  She was coldly professional. Even dressed in Steele’s jersey and blue jeans, this woman was formidable.

  “I’m Carol Bailey. You must be Hyacinth.” Her tone was carefully neutral, but her blue eyes saw everything. She expertly evaluated me with one measured glance that saw way more than I wanted.

  I nodded mutely, still unable to find my tongue, which retreated to parts unknown. “Y-you can call me Cin,” I stuttered and wrung my hands in my lap, glad I’d put the beer in the cup holder just before she’d shown up.

  “And you can call me Carol.” Her friendly offer wasn’t exactly friendly, but it wasn’t unfriendly. She wasn’t going all-in but maintaining her distance.

  Carol settled in her seat, and I noticed she, too, had a beer. Thank God I didn’t have to worry about making a bad impression in that area.

  “This is the first time I’ve seen Steele play this year,” she noted as she watched her son skate through his warm-ups. Her face softened, and she didn’t look nearly as formidable. I wouldn’t be fooled by her current expression. Carol Bailey was a mama bear protecting her cub, and I was a possible threat.

  “He’s incredible,” I gushed, and she turned the full force of those piercing blue eyes on me.

  One perfectly sculpted eyebrow shot upward in response. This woman was perfectly put together, and I didn’t measure up in my own mind and most likely not in hers. “He’s pretty special.”

  I nodded my agreement. This wasn’t going well, and I didn’t have a clue how to fix it.

  Steele skated by one more time, tapped on the glass again, and beamed at us. Both his mother and I grinned back at him, giving the impression we were getting along famously. The woman was impossible to read, much like Steele had been before I’d gotten closer to him. I didn’t know if she liked me, disliked me, or hated my guts, and I was usually a master at reading people. Not her.

  The team skated off the ice to return to the locker room before the game. I wistfully watched Steele go. With him out on the ice, I’d felt somewhat protected from this formidable woman, but now I was forced to make small talk with her.

  “Tell me about yourself, Cin,” she said as she sipped on her beer and watched me with eagle eyes over the rim of her cup.

  “There’s not much to say. I’m from Seattle. I work nights bartending, and I do volunteer work for a few causes such as homelessness.”

  “What are your future plans for a further education? Career plans? Things like that?” She rapid-fired her questions then waited for the answers.

  I felt like I was being interviewed for a job. I guess I was. A job as Steele’s girlfriend. “I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to figure out what I want out of life. I’m only twenty-four.”

  “You have a lot of time to figure it out. When I was your age, I was a beat cop and married to a beat cop. It’s tough when you’re both in high-stress positions like that, but we made it work.”

  I nodded, not knowing what else to do or where she might be going with this line of questioning. The comparison wasn’t lost on me, if that’d been her intention. I was a bartender while she’d been a public servant working in a dangerous profession.

  If I’d been like my mother, I’d be ranting about government and police oppression, not caring what this woman thought of me. I guess I wasn’t as radical as my mother. Or I was more of a coward or both. My mom believed extreme action was necessary to get attention. I was beginning to see the advantages to more subtle methods.

  “I think I’ll get another beer before the game starts. Would you like one?” I offered, anxious to get away and compose myself.

  “I’d love one.” She shot me a genuine smile of gratitude.

  I quickly left my seat and hurried up the steps to the concourse. I stood in a short line for two more beers. The first line was being introduced with much fanfare, music, and spotlights, so I waited until the lights were turned up. After which, I made my way back to my seat in time for the puck drop. That was one way to avoid further conversation.

  Steele’s mother knew her hockey way better than I did. I suspected she’d spent a lot of time watching her son play as he moved up through the ranks. Despite how composed she’d been earlier, she turned into a fan when the game started. She’d yell at the refs, shout at an opposing player who did something she considered dirty, and cheer for the Sockeyes. Her loudest cheers were for her son, as were mine.

  By the end of the first period, I felt as if we’d forged a miniscule bond over our mutual fondness for Steele.

  “He’s playing a good game,” Carol said as the team left the ice. She beamed with pride, and I smiled back at her.

  “He is. He’s been playing like he’s on fire lately.”

  “I know. I watch all his games. Not always live, but I record them.” There was censure in her voice, and I tensed. She turned to me and studied me carefully. “I only want what’s best for my boy. He deserves happiness. He deserves a partner in this life. I’ve always pictured him with someone who was more like him, but perhaps that’s not what he needs. I just hope you realize that beneath his stoic exterior is a sensitive young man, and I’d hate to see him hurt.”

  “I would never intentionally hurt him.”

  She didn’t look like she believed me.

  “I wouldn’t,” I insisted.

  “I hope not. He trusts you. Is he aware of your group’s resistance to the building of the center for former athletes?”

  I gaped at her, attempting to formulate an acceptable answer. “You know about that?”

  “I know a lot about you and your mother. I don’t know how much Steele knows. I haven’t spoken to him in any detail.”

  I should’ve guessed she’d have me checked out. Whatever she did for a living, she had connections.

  “He doesn’t know I’m part of that group.” I hung my head, feeling like a failure. I’d essentially admitted to his mother that I’d been dishonest.

  “You might want to tell him before he finds out on his own.” Her gaze was accusing, and I read the disapproval in the firm line of her mouth. Considering how hard she’d been to read earlier, I had to assume she was being purposely transparent so there’d be no doubt where she stood.

  “I plan on telling him. I was hoping I’d be able to keep my convictions separate from our relationship.”

  “I doubt you’ll be able to keep that one separate.” She actually laughed. Not a cruel laugh, but one laced with wry amusement. She was a fair woman even if she was understandably protective of her son.

  “That’s becoming obvious.”

  “I want to like you, Cin. I do. Fighting for causes is admirable. Doing so in a reckless and lawless manner is not.”

  I opened my mouth to protest. I’d only gone to the extreme once, and I’d been thrown in jail. I’d only been eighteen and bent on impressing my mother. Now I preferred more peaceful protests and methods.

  Carol held up her hand to silence me. “Hear me out. Steele is happier than I’ve ever seen him. He’s always been a lonely boy, even around his teammates. As hard as I tried, I wasn’t able to fill his father’s shoes. Hockey will never be enough. He needs a partner in life. One who’ll challenge him yet be by his side no matter what. Someone who’ll become the other half of his soul. I don’t know if you’re that woman, but I do know if you choose the path your mother has chosen, you cannot be. Steele has been raised in a family who respects the law but believes there’s always room for improvement.”

  “I’m nothing like my mother.”

  She smiled knowingly at me. “Of course you are. We’re all products of our parents. The question is how much?”

  The
team took the ice, and she dismissed the conversation. The rest of the game went without incident. We avoided anything but small talk and achieved a truce of sorts, bound together by Steele and hockey but still from two different worlds.

  And those worlds were due to collide sometime in the future.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  One Month

  ~~Steele~~

  The following Tuesday, one month had passed since my first date with Cin, which meant the no-sex rule I’d set in place had expired. I planned a celebration tonight in and out of bed.

  Not wanting a nosy audience listening to whatever might happen, I booked a suite at the Edgewater, a hotel built for the 1962 World’s Fair around the same time as the Space Needle. I liked the Pacific Northwest feel of the hotel and the fact that it was literally built on two piers over the waters of Elliot Bay. A few of my teammates had stayed there for special occasions and highly recommended it.

  Our dinner after the game with my mom had gone well a few nights ago. Cin and Mom seemed to have developed a tentative mutual respect for each other. My mom was a tough one to win over, but Cin would be able to do so in time. Mom was fair and wanted the best for me. She’d come around.

  Rather than jump in bed the second we arrived, I made dinner reservations to build the anticipation. We’d need the nourishment to sustain ourselves with the night I had planned. Forcing myself to wait was my own form of self-torture, but I’d always been one who believed building up to a moment made that moment all the more memorable.

  We wolfed down our main course as if we were famished, which we were—only it wasn’t just for food. We finished off the meal with dessert and wine.