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14
Malaysia
I turned my attention away from the snow-packed roads the Escalade plowed over to the vibrating cell. I stared at Ethan’s text message.
Hello, Malaysia. You’ll be over before work tonight, right?
No, Ethan, I had an emergency.
Is there anything I can do?
No, Ethan. You’ve done more than enough. I will talk to you later.
The truck came to a halt. I stared at the beautiful, large red-brick suburban home in New England, Massachusetts. My child hood home brought a smile to my face.
I glanced at the driver. “I’ll text you in a couple of hours.”
“Very well, Ms. Newton, see you soon.”
I stood on the welcoming porch, gawking at the cedar swing at the opposite end. So many spring evenings I had swung while reading. I had beautiful memories in this house. I turned the key. “Mom!”
“I’m right here, Malaysia.”
I closed the heavy door then walked into the festive living room. My mother stepped away from the window.
“Cadillac Escalade. That’s a nice truck!”
“It’s a car service, Mom. That’s all.”
“How much is the car service costing you? That’s the second time you’ve been dropped off by this car service. I wasn’t going to pry.”
I placed my hand on my hip. “Mom, you not pry? Funny.”
She sat in her favorite paisley chair, running her hand along the sleeve of her red chenille sweater. My mother’s black hair was styled in a bun. Her oval eyes held a mischievous gaze with mine.
I dropped the duffel bag on the floor then sat across from her.
“The Christmas tree is beautiful.” I smiled.
“Thank you.”
The holidays always warmed my heart. I was upset about my apartment. However, spending time with my family felt good.
My mother waited for an answer.
“Listen, it’s nothing major. A friend of mine wanted to make sure I get around the city safely.”
“He sounds nice. What’s his name? Do we get to meet him?”
“No, Mom.” I shrugged my leather jacket off my slender shoulders, laying it on the black cloth sofa at my side.
“I’m sure my bath water is getting cold. Where is Dad and Jordan?”
She grinned. “Your dad is at the shop. Jordan is upstairs in his bedroom playing that damn game.”
She rose. “I bet you’re hungry. I’ll make you a grilled chicken sandwich.” Her lips landed softly against my forehead.
“Thanks, Mom.”
