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"What was that?" I ask, utterly breathless from her affections.
"I wanted them to think I had to get you alone," she says.
"You don’t?" I ask, half-joking.
"It's all a game to them. They'd think they won if they knew we were running scared. But yes, you do need to go and I'm going with you." She bites her lip and rubs at her chest. Like she's struggling with her racing heart. The sight calms any thoughts of sexy time. Standing in front of her, I tilt my head, trying to show my concern. "Hey, is everything okay?"
Moisture builds in her eyes and she snaps her gaze away from me. "If Andy is telling you to leave, it's bad."
"Oh," I say and huff out a breath. Rubbing my neck, I try to shrug it off. "What can you do?" I'm saying it as a rhetorical question because it's fairly obvious neither of us can really do anything.
But to my surprise, Tilly perks up a bit. "Did you say your mom's place is nearby?"
"Yeah, about ten minutes down the road. But we’re going up?" I point to the ceiling, trying to make sense of her plan.
"We'll take the stairs back down and sneak out," she says swiftly. There’s a nervousness in her voice that is pissing me off. Not at her. Never at her. But at this damn situation. She truly is terrified of what could happen if we stay.
Executing her well thought out plan, we rush down the stairs to my car. Its as if I’ve been transported into a spy movie, or at the very least, someone else's life, where this kind of thing is normal. Hell, I'm the guy that's always ready with a good time and a beer. Usually on a beach somewhere. Running scared in a snowy landscape? I nearly laugh. Only Tilly could get me to do something like this.
We both get into my rental car and I leave the resort in the rearview mirror. There’s no regret about what has happened. Not for me.
As I navigate the salt-covered highway, Tilly falls silent, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window.
"You okay?" I ask her again. She nods, her mind seemingly still back at the resort. "Well, my mom is gonna be thrilled. She's been begging to meet you."
Tilly turns to me, an eyebrow lifted in surprise. "Your mom knows who I am?"
I can feel my ears starting to burn. "Uh, yeah. She has a knack for extracting information. You'll see." Suddenly, I'm hit by a wave of nerves. The thought of introducing the woman I love to my mother is unexpectedly daunting. Yet, the thought brings a smile to my face. It's a positive change, and my mom? She's welcoming to everyone. Maybe a bit too straightforward at times, but most find it charming. Considering Tilly has a similar way of talking to people, I have a feeling they’ll be thick as thieves as soon as they meet.
Ten minutes later, we're pulling into my mom's driveway. It's only 9:30 PM, and luckily, the door's still unlocked. Hand in hand, we walk in.
Murphy, my mom’s dog, is at our feet in an instant, his tail wagging so hard his whole backside is shaking. Tilly bends down to greet him. "Oh my gosh, a dog!" She's immediately taken with Murphy, her hands working through his fur, sending tufts of it into the air. I watch her, hands in my pockets to keep from grabbing on like I want to as she beams with joy, looking absolutely radiant. It’s so different from how she looked at the resort and I know I’ve made the right decision in bringing her here.
"Ma! I'm home," I yell out.
I hear her footsteps before she rounds the corner. "Hi, baby. Sorry, I was doing the crossword in the bath. You want a snack?"
Tilly stands up, shyly glancing at the floor as my mom appears in her bathrobe, hair pinned atop her head.
"Ma!" I have to raise my voice as she's still focused on her book, bifocals perched low on her nose. Finally, she looks up, and upon seeing Tilly, breaks into a wide grin. She comes over quickly and introduces herself. "I'm Henrietta. You must be Tilly." Tilly reaches out to shake her hand, but mom goes in for a big hug instead.
It takes Tilly a moment to return the gesture. “Oh, that’s nice,” she says awkwardly. I’m fighting a laugh. Yeah, Tilly is not a hugger.
My mom pulls away and is immediately in super mom mode. "Are you guys hungry? I can whip up some pasta or something."
"I'm starving," I confess, starting to take off my coat as Murphy weaves excitedly around our legs.
Ma's already heading to the kitchen. "Well, come on then. Don't be shy. We don't do shy here."
Out of earshot, I offer an apologetic shrug. "Sorry, she's a little—"
"Perfect?" Tilly finishes for me, her face lighting up with a broad smile. I wrap my arm around her waist and guide her towards the kitchen, where Ma's already busy chopping ingredients, a pan sizzling behind her.
"Ma runs a catering company. She's been a chef for thirty years," I mention, pulling out a chair for Tilly to sit.
"And a damn good one at that," Ma says, looking up from her cooking. "Oops, sorry about the cursing." But then her gaze shifts to our attire, and she drops her knife in shock. "Hold on a second. I thought you were at a memorial?" She drops the knife and puts both hands on her cheeks. "My god, you both look fantastic!"
Without waiting for an answer, she wipes her hands on a dishtowel and dashes down the hall. "Stir the garlic!" she calls back.
