When The Time Comes

chapter 34; Liberty

We leave Ben's place just shy of an hour later. It's still not clear whether he's left his apartment or if we just arrived at the wrong time. I think I fall asleep, not for too long, some time during the drive to Omar's mom's place. When I wake up, there's only seven minutes left of the drive there. It's strange, waking up to feeling even more tired than I did before.

"You're awake," Omar comments.

I wipe a patch of slobber from the side of my mouth, hoping he hasn't noticed. His lack of slobber related talk makes me think I've gotten away with it.

"Sorry," I shake my head, looking around at the unfamiliar streets.

"We're nearly there."

The houses are gorgeous in this neighborhood. Some of them look newly constructed, modern and all that. Grass that seem to stretch on plots larger than the houses, with mail boxes a morning run from the door. I had not thought about what I pictured Omar's family's place would look like but I also would never have expected this kind of neighborhood either. 

We finally come to a stop and to my slight nervousness, we step out at the foot of a black matte door and neatly trimmed garden. The red bricks make the house look even fancier than the others on the same street. I wait for Omar to walk and I follow close behind him, still half expecting him to take a turn.

"Don't be nervous," he surprises me by saying. I didn't think I was that obvious.

"Huh?"

"Just saying, don't be nervous. And also, mom can get a little dramatic so, fair warning."

"Okay," I barely am able to get out before a woman, my height and roundish face opens the door.

She looks at me and then Omar, when her face relaxes with familiarity.

"Omar," she presses his face between her two palms.

When he pulls away, her attention is on me. Thankfully, Omar introduces me so I don't have to. I'm already beginning to rethink this decision.

"Mom, this is Liberty. She'll be using the guest room for a couple of days."

Couple of days, not likely. Our days are coming up fast, I wonder if he has forgotten just how close they are.

"It's Lib. You can call me Lib," I say.

"Of course," she smiles and we enter the house. "Lunch is in the dining room."

Omar looks over his shoulder as if to check with me if it's okay if we eat first. The house is prettier on the inside and that's saying something. The rooms are spacious and very minimalist. The living room, with its wide window, lets in so much sunlight that for a minute I'm stunned.

"Beautiful plants," I say as we walk past the row of planters and vines.

"Thank you, you like plants too?"

"Oh I love them," I reply without much thought so I have to correct myself when the words are said. "But I've never kept any."

In the dining room, sits a large chandelier above the wooden table. We sit opposite each other. Omar and I. His mom sits at the head of the table and helps serve the food to which we oblige. Omar digs in almost immediately. His mom bites into a finger sandwich. I take my time before eventually stabbing an olive with my fork.

I've never really had food like this at home before. Maybe a couple of times in restaurants with a friend many years ago. So long ago that I don't remember it at all. And mom, well, while she can cook, she can't cook stuff like this. I dip my spoon into the rice. I don't even know the name of what I'm eating.