Devious Origins

CHAPTER 11

Dee was unlocking the door as I stood a few steps behind still processing her words. Her boyfriend? She couldn't mean that in any literal sense. I mean, so far our relationship had been the definition of platonic if somewhat exhausting. I began to ask for clarification, but Dee was already on her way into the house. I hurried after.

"Mom, I'm home," Dee shouted as she threw her jacket onto a nearby window seat.

I looked around. The house was as understated and well kept inside as it was outside. It was furnished in dark wood grains and richly patterned fabrics. The various surfaces and shelves were covered in vases, figurines, wood carvings... all nicely made but not overly ostentatious. The walls were covered in framed art work and photographs, the arrangement following no discernible pattern yet somehow still working together. As I scanned the room, a middle-aged woman entered. This could only be Dee's mother. The resemblance was unmistakable.

"Ah, Diana, I wasn't expecting you," she said, "I thought you were moving into your new apartment today. If you had given me some warning, I could have prepared some lunch for you and your friend."

"Oh Mom, stop with the mothering, you know I can feed myself," Dee replied. Dee's mother did not immediately answer but gave Dee an expectant look, then tilted her head slightly toward me. Dee got the clue. "Oh yeah. Mom, this is Barry. Barry... Mom." Suddenly Dee was grabbing my arm and pulling me next to her. "He's my boyfriend."

"I'm so very pleased to meet you, Barry," Dee's mother proclaimed as she offered me her hand.

"Um, yes, hello," I answered, "It's really nice meeting you too Mrs..."

I suddenly realized I did not know Dee's last name. What sort of boyfriend doesn't know his girlfriend's last name?

"It's Mrs. Newell," she volunteered, "I kept my married name. But feel free to call me Helen."

We shook hands, Helen clasping both her hands around mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. It was like the handshake equivalent of a hug... warm, accepting, but not overly familiar. I felt myself smile despite my nervousness. For a moment I almost forgot the strangeness of the situation. Then Dee spoke.

"Barry is just helping me get a few things from my room. We won't be long." She was already on her way deeper into the house.

"You are welcome to stay as long as you like," her mother replied. She then noticed Dee's jacket on the window seat and gave a gentle sigh before scooping it up and hanging it on a peg by the door.

I hesitated a moment, unsure If I should continue talking to Dee's mother or follow Dee to her room. Following Dee seemed the less stressful option, so I turned to catch up with her. That was when I really saw The Wall.

It was covered in award ribbons, and plaques, and pictures. Many, many pictures.

A very young Dee riding a horse.

Teenage Dee at an academic competition.

Dee in rock climbing gear, clinging to a cliff face.

Adolescent Dee at a science fair, standing in front of a large chart and several glass containers.

Dee with a bow and arrow, an intense look of concentration as she draws the arrow back.

A pre-teen Dee dancing in a ballet recital.

An even younger Dee fighting in some sort of martial arts competition.

Dee on a balance beam, doing gymnastics.