How Do I Love Thee

Nine

*************Not Edited***************

Brett froze, then turned slowly to face his mother. Busted. "Mom, it's not what you think."

"Really?" She stood and advanced toward him. "What I think is that you're a liar and a sneak. Persuade me that you're not."

"I--um--I've been seeing someone...a girl."

"Well, doesn't that comfort me," she said sarcastically. "And what's wrong that you haven't let me meet her? How could you do this, Brett? Why?"

He knew he made a tactical error. He should have told his mother about Shayla by now, but he'd been so caught up in winning Shayla, he had forgotten about most everything else. "She's not like other girls."

His mother blanched. "You're not--she's not--"

Brett grasped his mother's meaning and felt embarrassed. "We're not doing anything wrong, Mom, if that's what you're asking. And I'm sorry if I've worried you." He fidgeted under his mother's withering glare. "Um--can we sit down?"

They retreated to the sofa, where Brett struggled to gather his thoughts. "Remember when i asked Dr. Packtor about XP--where people can't go out into the sun without getting burned?"

"Yes, and you told me that there was a girl--" His mother stopped abruptly. "Is that the girl you're seeing? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's taken me some time to get her to date me," he confessed. "I sort of had to wear her down."

His mother shook her head and rubbed her temples wearily. "You could have said something to me before now, son. You didn't have to sneak around. I would have understood."

"Maybe so, but it just seems easier to keep it to myself. I didn't want anyone to know, just in case...you know...she rejected me. She was scared, Mom. Kids made fun of her when she was smaller. I--I know what it feels like to have people talking about you behind your back." He squirmed. 'You're probably thinking I just feel sorry for her, but that's not true. I like her, Mom. I really like her.'

She studied him, her expression softening. He'd never mentioned liking a girl to his mother before noe, or the sting of rejection he'd felt during the time he adjusted to chemo while trying to fit in at school. He was afraid she'd start some lecture, but she surprised him and said, "I want to meet her. I'll fix dinner for the three of us."

"I'll ask her," Brett said. "Shayla's special, Mom. She doesn't deserve to have XP."

"Just like you didn't deserve to have leukemia," his mother said. "Believe me, I know, Brett--life isn't fair."

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The night Shatla came to dinner, Brett worked feverishly to make the cabin safe for her. Because the summer sun didn't set until after nine o'clock, he didn't want her to risk exposure to damaging light. He hung sheets across windows, turned off lamps, and lit candles. His mother set the table with her finest dishes and placed candles in silver holders. Shayla droover her own car over because the windows were specially tinted. By the time she arrived, the savory smells of roast beef and potatoes filled a cabin turned into a safe haven for its guest.

"Brett tells me you're taking courses at Boston College," his mother said as the three of them ate together. 'Do you have a major in mind?"

"Night work," Shayla said, then smiled, which invited Brett and his mother to smile too. "Maybe computer programming," she sadded. "I can work from my home that way."