Now, I'm no saint, but I'm pretty sure I haven't done anything nearly bad enough to deserve this.
There I was, this Adonis like 29 year old (If I dis say so myself), but I'd masked all my scorching beauty with an outfit that resembles that of a homeless man. Sweatpants, a plain grey t-shirt with a mustard stain on the very front, and –as my mother would call it- Rupert style hair. It was actually sticking out in all directions.
And there she was, braids neatly pulled back into a firm ponytail, looking like an angel of the night in her fitted white summer dress, brown Birkenstocks and fresh face. She ALWAYS had to one up me in everything! Can't a hungover man catch a break at all?
She was looking at me expectantly, waiting for an answer to a question she never asked.
"This is my mom's house," I said rudely. "What are you doing here? Are you following me now?"
She looked at me skeptically, then her lips formed into a smug, teasing smile.
"Dr. Reimer is your mother? That's impossible. How could such an intelligent, dignified woman yield a child like you?"
"I ask myself that question every day! I think he gets it from his father." My mom was now standing beside me at the door, giving me a reprimanding look. "David, let my guest in. You're being rude."
I groaned but stepped aside anyways. Zara smugly stepped past me and walked down the entry corridor into the main living room. My mom had turned off the TV and rearranged the throw cushions. What is it with women and those damn decorative pillows?
My mother, a woman in her mid-fifties, always had a liveliness about her that was impossible to not be drawn to. She was slender with long blonde hair that was starting to whiten in some places. She refused to cut it short, muttering something about how just because a woman was in her fifties didn't mean she had to chop off all her hair and look like a conservative housewife. Right now, however, she looked like she just received the best gift in the world.
She outstretched her hand out to Zara and they shook hands vigorously.
"I am honored to meet you at last Ms. Degrave," My mom chirped. Honored?
Zara smiled, beautifully of course. "The honour is all mine, Dr. Reimer".
"Seriously what the fuck is going on here?" I asked bemusedly.
"David! I raised you to talk better than that!"
"Yeah, but dad didn't."
My mom rolled her eyes. She gestured for Zara to take a seat on one of the sofas and then turned towards me with her hands on her hip.
"Ms. Degrave here is my newest colleague. She is going to help me redesign the engineering program at the university. She just graduated, top of class, this spring from MIT in Electrical engineering. A lot of amazing offers have come her way, but she has so graciously chosen to work alongside our university and Hydro in redesigning our program and Hydro's current electrical structures."
The look she gave me said "screw this up for me and I'll be serving your head for thanksgiving dinner". Oh mother dear, if you only knew...
I had to pick up my jaw from the floor. So many things confused me. I thought Zara worked at a sporting goods store? She couldn't be any older than 21, and there she was, looking at me with that goddam smug expression.
I didn't quite know what to say to that, so I chose the ever eloquent "Uhh...eh..uh?"
My mother gave me a pointed look before turning to face Zara again. "Thank you again for coming, I thought perhaps we could have a proper meet and greet over some sushi and then coffee afterwards?" Ugh. Even at 55, my mom was still the most basic white girl around.
YOU ARE READING
Love Her Madly
Romance"You are crazy," She said with a wicked grin. "Kiss me." "Why?" She murmured, stepping closer to me. Her voice was so low, so gentle it felt more like a caress than an actual sound. "Because, you hurt my feelings. Now you have to kiss it and make...