On the way there, I stopped and bought a bottle of wine, then thought they might not drink wine and got some beer as well, one of the apple kinds I saw Dane drink occasionally. As I walked toward the front of the store, their floral department caught my eye, so I grabbed flowers too, almost put them back, almost put everything back, and then went with it.
I obviously wasn’t very good at this.
Bonnie’s house was in Southeast Portland in the Brentwood-Darling neighborhood, which was all residential homes, some old and some newer. I pulled up in front of their brown A-frame house. It was older, probably thirty years old or so, but it looked…comfortable.
My hands were a little sweaty. I rubbed them on my jeans. It was silly to be nervous to have dinner with Bonnie, but I didn’t know her son or what to expect. In some ways I guessed I was more like my mom than I liked to admit. I wanted some kind of control.
I pushed open the car door, grabbed the stuff, and got out. I made it to the driveway when the door opened and Bonnie came out. “Look at you! You didn’t need to bring all that.”
“Sorry.”
“Hush, you. There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s nice. I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”
I handed the flowers and wine over. “I didn’t. I appreciate you guys having me over.”
“No problem.”
She led me inside, and it was nice and homey, with mostly warm colors. The large living room had a tan couch and led right into the kitchen, which had an island as well as a long wooden dining table.
“I’ll put these in some water. My son is in the shower. He’s running a few minutes behind. He’s a mechanic and stayed a little late.”
“No worries.”
She took the beer from me and put it in the fridge. “Do you want one?”
“No, thanks. I’m good. Maybe some water?”
“Sure thing.”
It was funny that I’d been nervous, because as soon as I stepped inside with Bonnie, I felt better. She was comforting that way—the way I’d always thought a mom should be. Their house was homey, lived in, which I immediately liked. I bet she’d held her son when he cried and tucked him in when he was young, all things I had random flashes of from before my dad died, but no memories of at all once he was gone.
She gave me a glass of ice water, and I thanked her and said, “Smells great in here.”
“I’m making roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Nothing other than visit with me.” She gave me a kind smile. “I went and looked at an apartment yesterday.”
“Did you like it?”
“I did. I’m still not sure if that will happen or not, but it’s cute. A small one-bedroom, perfect for me.”
I looked around their house. “I can’t believe you want to leave here. I love your house.”
“You’re so sweet. It’s not that I don’t like it, but it’s not mine. It’s Jake’s. He’s dealt with his mama long enough. I’m sure he’s ready for some space,” she said, and I realized this was the first time she’d used his name.
“I don’t need space,” I heard in a deep, rumbling voice as a man walked around the corner. He was tall, with dark, wavy hair and scruff along his jaw, big blue eyes, and a broad chest that yep, I’d seen before. One I’d ogled before too.
“Oh, I know you. You’re friends with Mark, Dane’s brother-in-law.” My heart was thudding, and my cheeks immediately spiked with heat. It was silly that I had this reaction around a cute guy, but I’d been the same way on Thanksgiving, when I originally met Jake. He’d been kind, even though he hadn’t even said much to me that night, but I’d been like a teenager around my first crush. “Yeah…Jesse…”
“I thought your name started with an S,” Jake said.
“You guys know each other?” Bonnie asked as I got even more embarrassed.
“No, I mean Jesse. He’s my roommate; well, he was my roommate, but now he’s moved in with Dane. They got an apartment. Anyway, Jesse is my friend, which is why Dane invited me over, and Seth. I’m Seth.”
Oh God. I. Was. An. Idiot. Could I babble any more?
“Wow, that was a mouthful,” Bonnie said, placing her hand on my shoulder.
“Do you think I could possibly have one of those beers now?”
4
Jake
Christ, this kid can ramble.
Come to think of it, Seth seemed as flustered as he did on Thanksgiving, so I’d go with the idea of him being flustered from meeting new people. Though from what Mom had told me of his volunteer work, he was pretty sociable and popular with the residents, so maybe it depended on the audience. What trouble could a bunch of retirees give him?
Seth was wearing a backward baseball cap and eyeliner, which made me zero in on his blue irises. He was a lot smaller than me in build, but I shouldn’t have referred to him as a kid; most likely, I only had three or four years on him. He was definitely an adult but presented younger—more naive, maybe?—with those pouty lips and round cheeks, and why the hell was I having a running commentary on this guy?
I’d done the same at Thanksgiving because there was just something about Seth—shy and sweet but also a bit reserved, sort of like a wounded animal, which was probably shitty to think of someone, but it only made me curious about his background again.
“It’s so wild that you know my mom,” I said to stop the blathering inside my head.
“Small world, I guess,” he replied, his cheeks still flushed. “But yeah, she’s…she’s great.”
I smiled because the fact that he liked my mom earned him extra brownie points. “She is.”
“You boys are too sweet. Thank you,” Mom said with a shy smile that almost matched Seth’s.
He motioned toward the kitchen. “I, uh, brought some beer, but I didn’t know if you—”
“I like a nice beer.”
Mom opened the fridge and handed me a bottle of some cider shit. I wasn’t a fan of the fruity kind, but he was nice enough to bring it, so I twisted the cap and made do.
After a couple of swallows, I opened the cupboard to reach for the dishes and began setting the table, which was the least I could do since Mom cooked for us. When Seth motioned to me, I handed him the silverware, and he got right to work helping out. My immediate impression was that he liked to keep moving, or maybe it was nervous energy from being in a new setting.
Once I set the trivets in the center of the table, I helped Mom pull the roast from the oven and motioned for Seth to take a seat across from me. “Mom says you play the piano and do the residents’ makeup?”
“Yeah, they seem to love it,” he replied, and Mom smiled at him over her shoulder. “I, uh, like to be involved in a little bit of everything.”
Something about the way he said it made me pause. He definitely sounded skittish, and I recognized that all too well. Is that why Mom befriended him? Kindred spirits?
Okay, none of my business.
“Come to think of it, I remember Dane mentioning that you work with him at…what’s it called now?” I tried jogging my memory from the last time I was over at Mark’s to shoot the breeze with a couple of beers. Dane had stopped by to visit his niece, and we got caught up on the porch.