by Anne Leigh
“Wow. Lawyer. What kind?” Who knew, my job had me tiptoeing legal boundaries on a day-to-day basis, I might need a lawyer to pull me out of jail one of these days.
“Patent law.” Mrs. Messing’s voice colored with pride. I recognized the same in my mother’s voice when she talked to other people about me.
“That’s impressive. I remember her as being extremely driven and a leader in high school.”
“She is.” Mrs. Messing smiled, “I’m sure she’d love to reconnect with you, Webb.”
Hell no. “Maybe one of these days, Mrs. Messing.”
My mom’s eyes landed on me, a gentle smile presented on her face, she knew I was patronizing her friend.
Mothers always know.
Our server, a young guy who reminded me of Denzel Washington, approached our table. “Are you ready to order?”
Mom replied, “Yes we are, Atif.”
Mom was that person – the one who called everyone by their first name. She said that everyone needed to be recognized as a person, it didn’t matter who or what or where they came from. It was how she was brought up and how she brought me up. My dad had instilled the ma’ams and sirs in me; my mom had drilled the Missus and Misters, everyone who was older than me had to be addressed with respect even when their views were completely opposite from mine.
Mom ordered the Foie Gras Pot de Crème and Oeufs Gratines first and the rest of us followed suit. I wasn’t extremely fond of French cuisine, but it was one of my mom’s favorites.
Table chatter strayed away from any more matchmaking schemes as we enjoyed the delicious array of food. The ladies chatted about how they spent their days – from visiting local shelters to volunteering to cook for the local high school’s sports events and continuing to advocate for the plight of mothers and children to gain healthcare access.
Mrs. Messing was the wife of Congressman John Messing and Mrs. Waterford was a former president of the San Diego Community College District. They were influential members of the community and they used their status and influence for good.
Mom had met them at a PTA meeting way back when I was in kindergarten and they’d built a friendship that lasted through the decades.
“When are you going back to L.A. son?” Mom asked, while she wiped her mouth with the napkin emblazoned with A.M., the restaurant’s name and logo.
“Later tonight.” I’d planned on going back tomorrow, but the new e-mail from Tony was something I needed to discuss with Liam in person.
“I’m glad you were able to come for my birthday. I’m not quite sure what’s keeping you so busy these days…I’m just happy you’re here.” Mom’s voice had a touch of sadness. I couldn’t tell her what’s going on. I understood why Dad had to keep her in the dark about his job. Sometimes protecting someone meant holding off information because knowledge could kill. Proximity to that knowledge could be deadly. She knew I was trying to establish my own business and that was all I was willing to share right now.
I reached my hand across the table to hold hers. Her hands had aged with time, but they still bore the unconditional lines of love that she had for me. I’d been fortunate to have good parents and more than blessed to have a mother who always chose me before anything else. She’d been the star of Germany’s music scene yet when she became pregnant with me, my dad said that she had no qualms about moving back to the States where he was deployed and raised me here.
She went back to her love for the arts when I was old enough to walk and take a shit by myself. She deserved the best and it gave me peace that she was surrounded by her best friends on her special day.
“I’m going to try to come back over a weekend,” I promised. Along with the feather yarn scarf and gloves I bought for her birthday, my presence was one of the rare gifts I could always give her.
Mrs. Waterford spoke, “This is why I’d love to have you as a son-in-law, Webb. You’re a good guy. You’re not like the guys that Chloee dates from that swipe thing on her phone.”
Tinder. Zoosk. Swipe.
It could be any one of those, among many others. Thanks to Liam, I was updated as to what they were even if it baffled me as to why anyone would use them.
If I were a woman, I’d want a background check, complete with criminal history on my date. At a minimum, a satisfactory result from the National Instant Criminal Background Check System (NICS) would be warranted. You can’t predict loose cannons, but you can have a tight grip on the reality of who you were meeting if you at least knew if they had a protective order or a criminal arrest on their record.
“Dee would love to be reacquainted with you too, Webb,” Mrs. Messing asserted. Her eyes lifting from the Chicken Parisian to give me an approving appraisal.
My mom’s best friends were hilarious. I would never be involved with their daughters because first they weren’t my type and second, there would be unending commentaries about how our relationship was going.
So…fuck it.
Now’s as good as a time as any.
“I’m dating someone.”
The silence after my bomb dropped would be funnier if my Mom would have had actually said something…after a minute or two.
Her eyes were so wide that I could fit the butter server located to her right.
For all the chatter that they were dishing out earlier, her friends were suddenly at a loss for words.
“I haven’t really asked her out yet, but I’m going to. She’s younger than me…and I made it a problem, when in fact she’s wiser than her years and hell, she’s got more balls than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s been through so much yet she makes it sound as if all the sh—stuff was a walk in the park. She’s beautiful...when she smiles, I swear I’m brought back to Dresden, when all the lights converge to bring life to Frauenkirche.”
In all my twenty-nine years, I’d never spilled my guts about a girl to my mom.
Definitely not in front of her friends.
Maybe this was what old age did to you, diarrhea of the mouth became a common malady.
“Would anyone like some dessert?” Atif had excellent timing. After my unexpected confession, a reprieve was more than welcome to reduce the level of awkwardness that would ensue.
Mrs. Waterford, God bless her excellent ability to bring back the conversation to a neutral ground, said, “Two coffee crème brûlée’s and a cappucino crepe cake, please. We’re celebrating our dear friend’s birthday here.”
I seconded her request and Atif left to get the desserts.
My mom finally blinked and slowly, she said, “Dresden?”
I nodded, we frequented Dresden in Germany whenever we flew back to her birth country. At a young age, I’d told her that it was one of my favorite places, the architecture of the Frauenkirche could shock a person into awe, but for me, it was always about the lights outside of the cathedral that made it stunning, especially if you saw it while the sun was setting in the horizon.
“I’ve never been to Germany.” Mrs. Messing’s had now regained her voice. “I keep telling Magdalene here that I want to go with her the next time she goes back.”
My mom responded, “You keep telling me, but you never go through with it. The next time you run out of excuses not to go, I’ll bring you.”
“I’m busy every time you go,” Mrs. Messing remarked, the grin on her face letting me know that it was all in good fun. “If you scheduled it in January, then I have a ton of free time.”
Mom shook her head, “Sylvie, I won’t dare go back there in the winter. The best time to go is in the summer…”
“During museum summer nights,” I finished for her. She loved visiting the museums where her parents often took her when she was a child.
“I’m surprised you remember lieber Sohn.” Her native tongue always came out when she was trying to make a point.
“Of course.” How could I forget? Those were the times that sustained me in war – the memories of how loved I was as a child, by my mother and father.
“
This woman, this junge Dame, she’s nice?” The eyes that held my heart from the day I was born assessed me.
My head bobbed, shit, I shouldn’t have said anything. What was I thinking? Now my mom was going to interrogate me in front of her friends.
“I’d love to meet her.” Not a request nor a command. It was a statement cloaked in curiosity and concern.
“You will, Mom.” It was only a matter of time before I introduced Athena to her, I wasn’t going to renege on the possibility of them meeting. It would be interesting to see how my mom would react to the first woman I’d ever introduced to her. I had friends, girlfriends, that my mom met throughout the years, but none of them were anyone I was serious with. I wasn’t like my friend Markus who had a regular parade of women in high school, I just had casual relationships, so casual that I never bothered to bring them home or introduce them to Mom. And the only woman I had a serious relationship with, I couldn’t introduce to my mom because of our circumstances back then.
“Maybe…” Mrs. Waterford sighed as she inhaled the crème brulee that Atif had brought. “Maybe you can introduce my daughter to one of your friends, Webb.”
“I’d like that,” Mrs. Messing seconded. “I’m sure you got tons of nice guy friends.”
My shoulders shook in amusement. “With due respect ma’ams, my friends are unavailable.” They’re either behind enemy lines or running away from women who hinted at a smallest chance of a relationship. They were all allergic to commitment. Markus often said that it was the nature of the job, that he wouldn’t want to put anyone in that position where uncertainty was the norm.
“That’s too bad,” Mrs. Waterford lamented though her eyes said otherwise. I’m sure she was already thinking of the next guy to hoist her daughter with.
“Are you sure you can’t think of anyone who would be nice enough to date Dee?” Mrs. Messing wasn’t giving up. I got to give it to these women, they were relentless. No wonder my mother was friends with them. She was as indomitable as they were, not necessarily when it came to my dating/love life, but on the aspects of her music and career.
“Sylvie. Madeline. My son just told me about this girl, a woman whom he likes enough to tell his mother about, and he’d just agreed on me meeting her. Can you allow me to savor this moment?” There was a special gleam in her eyes, the kind that should have had me running towards the ocean and staying underwater for an hour or two. It was as if she was already dreaming of her future grandchildren right before my eyes.
“Mom, we’re just dating,” I said, shifting in my seat, really hoping that she wasn’t going to go overboard when she met Athena. “We haven’t even started dating. I’m just going to ask her out. She hasn’t even said yes.”
Mrs. Waterford raised her champagne glass in the air, “Happy birthday, Magdalene. May you have many more.”
I welcomed the segue and raised my own glass in the air, clinking it with mom’s then with her friends’ glasses. “Happy birthday, Mom.”
“Cheers!” Mrs. Messing exclaimed. “To many more birthday candles!”
My mom smiled, accepting all the well wishes and with a flash of shenanigan in her eyes, she said, “Here’s to wishing my son would give me grandbabies before I turn another leaf.”
If I could go backwards in time, I would have told myself: Shut up, Webb. Don’t say anything about Athena to your mother.
But even if I wanted to take it back I couldn’t.
And when I glanced back at her, she had a radiance that I hadn’t seen in a long time. The last time I caught a glimpse of it was when my dad was still around. It was as if someone had plugged life back into her…
That was something I wouldn’t want to take back.
“Damn girl, you look hawwtt!” Dyan’s voice went up a notch, the shrill slightly hidden by her enthusiasm. “If I was a guy, I’d totally do you.”
My face broke into a smile. I needed all the confidence I could save up for tonight.
It wasn’t every day that I was invited to an ultra-glamorous event where the country’s most powerful women were in attendance.
Denton had been a great friend. He’d offered to cover the cost for my whole outfit, including the beauty treatments and preparation that Dyan had subjected me to. I’d politely declined because it wouldn’t be right. Although it was costing me an arm and a leg and a half, I wanted to look presentable for my own sake and not at Denton’s cost.
And, I didn’t think Webb would be pleased at the fact that Denton would be spending money on me.
Webb hadn’t said much, but his demeanor had changed since we came back from D.C.
He often joined me for breakfast and actually engaged in small talk. When before he would sit at the table and I just felt alone. Now he’d chat about the news, and sometimes he’d even surprise me with tidbits about Hollywood stars. Some were gross – like a famous singer who didn’t wash her hands after a number two – that was disgusting. Some were quite interesting – how a popular actress was in the military and became a box-office queen after leaving the service.
Then there were the small light touches. When before he avoided proximity to me, now he stayed as close to me as possible, especially when were alone at his place. One night, I’d invited him to watch a movie with me, and I was ready for him to say “no” as he usually did. Imagine my surprise when he sat on the couch beside me and asked me to pick the movie. I chose Fast and Furious 6. He’d raised his brow and asked, “Because of Paul Walker or Vin Diesel?”
I smirked and responded, “Nope. Jason Statham and Luke Evans.” He’d nodded his head and didn’t say anything. In the middle of watching it, he’d said, “You like older guys then?”
I paused the movie and laughed so hard that my belly ached.
When I’d finally stopped, his questioning eyes were on me.
“I don’t have a thing for older guys,” I said, in between giggling fits. “I think they’re hot because of their accents and they’re pretty to look at.”
I started to push the play button when he asked, “Would you go out with an older guy?”
My face heated up because after showing him many times that I was interested and him basically ignoring me or not reciprocating my intentions, I’d given up. The only response I could say back was, “Why?”
“I’m asking, Athena,” was his answer.
“If you’re asking if I’d go out with any older guy, I’d say no.” I was raised by a man who upheld honesty to the highest level. At times, it hurt to be honest. But I’d rather live with the hurt than stay alive with a lie. “But if you’re the one asking me, I wouldn’t even think twice about it. My answer would be yes.”
He looked away for a minute and the next minute, he inched closer to me. Without saying another word, he put his arm around my shoulders and we finished the movie like that. Our bodies flush against each other, his hand caressing my hair gently time and time again, and after the movie ended, he’d lain my head against the white cushy pillow and that was the first time I’d fallen asleep with a man. The next morning, I’d woken up in my bed and all I could think about was how nice it felt to see the other side of Webb. The side that he was slowly showing me.
So…
While tonight I was Denton’s date, I really wanted to look good for Webb.
While I’d be in Denton’s arms, I’d be thinking about the man who would be in the shadows. The man who could make my heart beat faster and my breath slower.
I glanced at my reflection in our dorm’s full length mirror.
The navy mixed media midi dress’ ponte bodice featured with a lamé, chevron eyelash fringed skirt was a pricey buy. But the way the thin sleeveless straps highlighted the square caftan neckline was so worth it.
The A-line silhouette made me feel like a princess.
The high-low hem and the hidden back zipper made me feel like a woman.
Tonight I wanted to feel like the woman that I was.
I’d applied the finishing touches to my face, applying
the deep eggplant eye shadow to the top and bottom lines of my eyelashes to create a smoky, contrasting shade to the green in my eyes. The deep purple eyeliner capped off the sultry, sexy effect I was going for. I’d learned the basics of makeup from YouTube beauty tutorials. It was one of the benefits of being in the hospital day in and day out, I had an unlimited amount of time doing nothing online and if there was one thing I’d perfected, it was to create a different version of myself by applying makeup.
“Girl, you’re smoking,” Dyan said, she’d been on her phone while I was fixing my face. She could be a ninja. There were a few instances when I’d be busy studying and all of a sudden she’d break me out of my reverie and it would completely stump me because I forgot she was there in the first place.
“Thank you my friend.” I was happy with how the dress turned out. My savings wasn’t, but life was only lived once and this was my biggest splurge of the year. “What time is it anyways?”
“Ten til eight.”
In five minutes, Denton would be knocking so I herded Dyan to the living room.
I hadn’t been sleeping at our dorm since Webb had determined it was safer for me to be at his place. In the beginning it was hard keeping secrets from my friends. A few weeks into my living arrangement with Webb, I’d talked to him about it and although he wasn’t amenable at first, he did say that it was better for them to know than not to know. I told them the smallest of details, that my dad was working on a super-secret project and there were people who wanted to use me to get to him. Mario had thought it was the coolest, Dyan was excited that she knew a VIP, and Denton was the one who took it the best way possible. I guessed it was because he was used to that type of environment since his mom was a governor.
