"Ah, Mom!" he protested.
"Suck it up, buttercup," his brother taunted.
"Adam, knock it off!" Olivia admonished. "There is no reason to torment your brother."
The rest of the dinner was spent eating quietly, one brother picking at his chicken with a sullen look on his face and the other inhaling the meal almost faster than he could chew. As they finished dinner, Olivia began stacking the plates and passed them to Adam. The cups and cutlery went to Jonathon.
"Don't forget to rinse off the pots before they go in the dishwasher," she instructed them as they took the items into the kitchen. As she watched them moving around, she took a moment to appreciate that although they drove her crazy at times, they were, at heart, good kids. They helped out at home, they didn't get into trouble at school, and their grades were decent. What more could a mother ask?
Later that evening, she settled in for her phone call with Luke. For the past week, they had been talking every evening and meeting every second day or so for either lunch or dinner. She usually preferred lunch because of the boys – she didn't want them to meet until she felt more confident in their relationship - but she knew at some point she was going to have to introduce him to them. She couldn't keep juggling spending time with him and taking care of the boys while keeping them apart. She didn't like the idea of introducing her boys to just anyone, but it appeared as though Luke was going to be around for more than a couple of dates. Generally, the boys weren't even aware when she went on one of her coffee dates or even to dinner. She didn't want to be the type of mother who had a revolving number of 'friends' coming in and out of her son's lives.
Luke had picked her up from work at lunch today, and they grabbed a bite at the local sub shop. It was nothing fancy, but she just enjoyed spending time with him and getting to know him better. Tonight, they would talk for at least an hour and the same again tomorrow night. Luke also routinely sent her cute cards through the dating site, and frequent texts, just to let her know that he was thinking of her. She had never received this amount of attention before and she wasn't sure she would ever get tired of it.
She still couldn't believe what was happening. After several years with no romantic interest in sight at all, she was being swept off her feet! There was no other way to describe what was happening. He brought her flowers almost every time they met, paid for every meal, and ended each evening with a kiss. And oh, what kisses! She had thought that maybe the first kiss had just been the result of nerves from a first date, but it turned out it wasn't. He kissed her again the next time they were out, and the next time, and the one after that. Each time, Olivia felt it from the tips of her toes all the way up to her head. And every place in between. She had begun to look forward to their goodnight kiss. If she were honest with herself, she would admit that she had started to crave it.
The phone rang at precisely eight pm, as usual. He was always right on time, as though he had been watching the clock and didn't want to keep her waiting.
"How was your day?" he asked, his deep baritone voice making her smile.
"It was great," she responded. "Work went by quickly, the boys haven't killed each other, and I haven't killed them, so we're all good!"
His laugh of appreciation caressed her ear, and she settled down into the pillows on her bed, ready to spend time with him.
"Glad to hear," he said. "I'm glad we went for lunch today, I miss you on the days we don't see each other."
"I miss you too," Olivia murmured shyly. She was still unused to his ability to express how he was feeling and found herself answering somewhat awkwardly. She did miss seeing him when they weren't together, but she was still coming to terms with the fact he felt the same way!
They talked about their work, her boys, and which movies they were interested in seeing the coming weekend. The boys would be with their dad, and they would have a lot of time they would be able to spend together.
After about an hour, Olivia began to stifle a yawn or two. As much as she tried to hide it from him, he noticed right away.
"Are you ready for bed, Olivia?" he asked.
"I'm afraid so. Sorry for yawning in your ear," she answered.
"It's okay, don't worry about it," he said. "Are you in bed now?"
"Yes, I am, I think that's one of the things that is making me tired," she answered.
"Are you in your pajamas?" he asked, his voice lowering slightly.
"Um, no, not yet," she responded, the tone of his voice caused goosebumps to rise on her arms.
"Why don't you put the phone down, go change, and then crawl into bed," he suggested. "I'll talk you to sleep."
Feeling silly, Olivia nevertheless did precisely that. She slipped her nightgown over her head, quickly splashed some water on her face and crawled in under her covers.
"There, I'm ready," she told him.
"Good, now let me talk," he said. "You don't need to say anything, and I won't ask you any questions. If you feel yourself nodding off, just go with it."
She felt a bit odd, but also strangely giddy at the thought of him doing such an intimate thing. He lowered his voice slightly and began talking about his home town and what it was like growing up there. He spoke of carefree days playing with his brother and his uncles, of growing up the oldest in a single mother family and how he tried so hard to be there for everyone. After a while, he talked about leaving home and moving to a brand-new town. As he spoke, his voice seemed to get deeper and slower. Olivia's eyelids grew heavy, and she smiled sleepily to herself as she realized once again how much she enjoyed his voice.
After a while, his voice trailed off, and she lay caught in a state between slumber and awareness, a twilight area where she was aware of what was happening, but she didn't really care.
"Olivia, click the hang-up button and have a good night's sleep," he commanded quietly. With a murmur of agreement, she tapped the button and fell into a deep slumber.
When she woke in the morning, she felt like she was climbing up a dark well, struggling to gain consciousness. Her eyes were encrusted with sleep, and her throat ached. Oh no, she thought, a cold. No wonder she had been so tired the night before - she had been coming down with a cold.
Dragging herself out of bed, she forced herself to go into the washroom and turn on the shower. The hot water soon had the room filled with steam, and she sat on the bathtub edge, hoping that the warm, moist air would clear her nasal passages. She sat there for a while before getting up and splashing water on her face before peering into the mirror. Yup, she was definitely sick.
Although she hated to do it, she went into her bedroom, picked up her phone and dialed work. She didn't miss many days, but she always felt slightly guilty when she did. She grabbed her housecoat and wrapped it around her as she trudged out to the kitchen.
"Whoa, Mom!" Jonathon exclaimed. "You look grody!"
"Don't be such an idiot Jonathon, you don't say that to a woman!" Adam chimed in.
"Okay, okay, no arguing this morning guys! You're right, I'm not feeling well, and I'm just up long enough to make sure you two get off to school okay," Olivia said in a croaking voice.
"We're okay, Mom, we can handle it," Adam reassured her. "Go back to bed."