Maeve's one fleeting high

3. Lemon's unnecessarily large house pt.2

A short moment later we're all gathered around the dinner table. Lemon's mom and dad were present too and the vibe is what I expected based on my knowledge of them. The dad was in a suit, looking crisp while the mom was looking not that lively. I hadn't met them before our greeting from a minute ago. 

I knew the mom was still grieving over the loss of her baby boy, but looking at her you'd think they lost him a week ago. Her gaze was blurry, her hair greasy in a bun, her body covered in a bath robe and her voice a mere whisper. The dad on the other hand was striking up conversations, eating well and cackling once in a while. It was a strange atmosphere. 

Though that seems fair, considering grieving is a personal process. Lemon was also doing well compared to her mother. She was eating normally, joined in on conversations and made sure Blake and I were felt welcomed. Throughout all this, she occasionally bore her eyes into her mother, worry crossing her face. 

Skylar was seated beside her and, to my surprise again, feeding Mrs. Van Damme. Ever since Mrs. Van Damme appeared through the door of the dining hall, swaying a bit, he hasn't left her side and stopped expressing his concern. He focused on feeding her instead of himself. This doesn't seem new to the family as no comments are thrown except for the occasional peeks. Even Blake doesn't seem to think anything of it as she makes conversation with Mr. Van Damme.

As I was deliberately taking sips of my drink (he used the hot sauce) I felt my phone buzzing in my back pocket. Going against dinner etiquette, I read the message under the table, hoping to be discreet.

Limoncello

He's just worried about her and wants to be sure she's eating. He's a sensitive and pretty empathetic guy.

Was I that obvious with my ogling at their interaction? It could be because of my prior assumptions about him. Nonetheless, I guess it's sweet of him to care for his aunt this much.

Another message.

Be subtle for just once, man. You're flashing everyone a double chin.

My head shoots up the second I read the message. Okay, maybe I should lower my eyes instead of my whole head. With the contour of my nose in my view, I message her back.

I didn't mean to stare. I think it's sweet to care for her.

Yeah. Ever since that day he's been by her side whenever he's home.

Soon after our short message exchange, we both divide our attention again. I listen in on the conversation Blake, Mr. Van Damme and Skylar were having only to be slapped in the face with economy jargon. Blake was majoring in business and Skylar was an employee of Mr. Van Damme, who's the CEO of his own business company (I don't know more than that). 

It's funny seeing Blake this serious. She's nodding at every word coming from Mr. Van Damme and talking passionately with her hands whenever it's her turn.

Instead of further tuning in their conversation like I'm a secret spy, I lightly kick Lemon's foot to get her to notice me.

''So, what do you normally do here when you're not at our place?'' I ask out of curiosity, pouring myself another drink.

''Ow, hmm,'' she nods, ''I normally have my gang gathered in the living room, discussing our plans for today. Then I have them escort me to one of the guests room because obviously there's a secret room in there that bears all the secrets in the world! And no, I'm not spilling it to you''—she points her fork at me—''Once we arrive in the chamber of The Secrets, we—'' 

I put up my hand to stop her talking when I figure she won't otherwise. ''Okay,'' I exclaim, ''I reckon it was a stupid question,'' I mumble, swirling the apple juice in my whine glass.