Forsaking Lilly

Chapter Ten

We were able to squeeze in about three episodes by the time dinner was done. I have to admit, I was very reluctant to take my eyes away from the show, it happened to be very entertaining. Mentally, I made a note to myself to give cartoons more credit.

From the kitchen, I could hear my mother setting out a few plates and silverware for dinner.For the first time, I realized that this house didn't have a dining room like our house in Portland. There wasn't even a table! I took these lack of necessary equipment as a safe way to saying that we were eating in the den in front of the flat screen. Inside, I felt a piece of me crumble away. We never ate in front of the T.V. because dad never liked it.

" Dinner's done," my mother said in that wanna-be pleasant voice of hers. Obediently, Marcus and I filed into the kitchen to make our plates ( My mother made broccoli and cheese soup and toasted bread, nothing fancy ). I noticed that Marcus didn't get a lot of food.On the other hand, my plate was well endowed.

We all retreated back into the dining room and settled into our proper seats. Our dinner was silent and awkward until after my mother got through her first bites. " So, Marcus, where do you work?" Marcus swallowed off a piece of bread before he answered.

" Oh, I work on a ranch out in Palo pinto." I wasn't sure where that was exactly, but I knew I would figure it out eventually. I swallowed a big spoonful of soup and nibbled off a piece of bread. My eyes swept over to look at my mother, but my sight collided with Marcus' steady gaze. I looked back down at my soup, not wanting to hold eye contact with a stranger. My mother coughed a little, and when I looked up her eyes were set in an uncomfortable expression.

" How long have you lived in town?"

" Um, my parents owned the house I live in now. They moved out when I turned eighteen. I've been here since then."  I kept my eyes on my mother's face. I was waiting to see what type of question she would ask next when I noticed something flash across her face. She laughed then, standing with her plate and carrying it to the sink. My gaze followed her the whole way, wondering what was on her mind. But I also knew that, what ever it was, she would never bring it up.

She came back and sat on the couch to wait for us to finish our dinner as well. It didn't take that much longer for Marcus to finish his. " Lovely dinner, Mrs....uh."

" Mrs. Loren," my mother corrected as she came over to take his plate.

" Right, Mrs. Loren." Marcus smiled and stood up, dusting his pants. " I should really head home." He scratched his head before smiling at me. " Nice to meet you too, Calla."

" Oh," I said, placing my plate on the coffee table so that I could  stand up and shake his hand. " It was nice to meet you too." He smiled at me before he walked to the front door. I took it that he didn't want to be shown out.

" Thanks again," he said as he shut the front door. After I was sure he was at least off the porch, I walked over and locked the door back.

I returned to my plate, ready to finish off the last of my soup. Of course, my mother wanted to strike up a conversation just at that moment. " He's quite handsome isn't he, Cal?" I shrugged my shoulders and swallowed some more soup.

" He's nineteen, mom." I heard her sigh and rolled my eyes at her. My mother was constantly playing matchmaker with me, mainly because I'd never had a boyfriend. Don't get me wrong, I'd been asked before, I just always said no.

" That's only two years ahead of you, Calla. I have no problem with it."

" Okay, mom," I snapped," can we have this discussion when it's important?" She tsked at me.

" I don't know, I'm just saying. You're not young forever, Calla. One day you have to fall in love, get married, and have children. It's part of life, honey." I dropped my fork on my plate and stood up, suddenly not hungry. Briskly, I marched in the kitchen, passed my mother, and scraped my plate into the trash.

" Well, unlike you, I'm dealing with the death of my father right now. Besides, love doesn't seem that important to you anyways." I dropped my plate in the sink and turned to make my way out. For once, my mother was absolutely quiet.

I went to my room and refrained from slamming the door behind myself, seeing as that would have been childish. Instead, I walked over and sat on my bed. As I sat there, I re-evaluated what I had said to my mother. After a moment, I decided that I wasn't right in saying what I did. Sure on the outside it didn't look like she was dealing with my father's death, but it could just be a facade.

" Great," I muttered to myself, " now I feel like a jerk." I shook my head and covered my face, deeply inhaling as a way to calm my aggravated nerves. I knew that I had to go apologize to her. Swallowing my pride, I stood up and walked back over to the door. I paused for a moment before I opened it and walked down the hall to the kitchen.

I don't know why, but I expected to see my mother cleaning the stove. Instead, the den and kitchen were empty. From where I stood, I could see that a folded piece of paper lay on the counter. I walked over to it and picked it up. It took me a while to sort out my mothers complicated cursive.

                                                I went for a drive.Love you Calla, - Mom.

I shook my head and trashed the note. Running my hands through my hair, I went back to my room to try to do my homework. I should have stressed over my mother, but instead I only thought: Who gives homework to a new student?