"Oliver Deerman, boy where did you run off to now?" Nona mumbled to herself, crossing her arms. She sighed to herself, making his bed. Of course, that's what she was paid to do, yet she raised Oliver from a wee lad. Nona was Oliver's mother. Nona closed the door to the young teenager's room and looked out the hallway window, into the yard.
I have to plant some more roses, the maid thought to herself, These ones are dyin'. She continued to look around the yard, silently pointing out what she saw that needed tending to.
The damned groundskeeper didn't mow the lawn.
Grinning to himself, Oliver Deerman already sat in thekitchen, nibbling on a piece of cinnamon-sugar toast. A bottle of water was crudely placed in his pocket, on the verge of falling out. Finishing his toast and setting it on the napkin, he tapped his fingers to a random beat on the table. He looked around and let his eyes linger on the tree in the backyard, birds flying around it and sitting on branches. Sighing to himself, he slouched, longing to hear what everything sounded like.. the wind through the trees, birds tweeting, even the sound of the microwave ringing when his hot cocoa is done. He giggled to himself, rubbing the back of his neck.
Soon enough, Nona was there to snap him out of his thoughts by popping the back of his head. Shaking her head, the maid grabbed the keys to the black Porsche that waited outside. Oliver looked at Nona, frowning and pushing his blonde hair from his face. "I thought.. Isn't daddy taking me to the yardsale?"
"Darlin' come here, lemme tell you somethin'." Nona signed, speaking as Oliver read her lips, "Yo pappa is up to no good again, with all that damned office shit." Nona wrapped her arms around the boy, hugging him.
"It's just gon' be me and you today, Ollie D." Oliver nodded and smiled softly.
"Well," He answered, his voice cracking slightly, "It would be alot more awkward to go with papa than it would be with you, Momma."
Hearing Oliver call Nona "Momma" almost broke her fragile heart. She sighed before smiling and wiping her eyes, once again sighing to Oliver as she spoke. "Now Oliver Deerman you know I ain't your momma, so don't go callin' me that."
"Yes ma'am," Oliver answered, standing up, "I just.. You've raised me, more than my own mom has and you're like a momma to me. You raised me right, Nona." Grinning, Nona shook her head and motioned for the boy to follow him to the car.
* * *
"Move out tha road! These damned tourists.." Nona mumbled to herself as she parked the car. All Oliver could see was yardsales, and he grinned from ear to ear.
"Nona," He asked, looking over at the maid, "Where do we start?"
