Mercy || Whitey Winn

(6)

We walked along for another five minutes, making short talk about random things, until we reached my home. I opened the door for him and jokingly make an over-the-top gesture along with a curtsy for him to walk in.

He smirked in reply and tipped his hat in my direction. "Why, thank you, miss."

"You're quite welcome, deputy."

Once we were both inside, I called out to my mother to inform her of our arrival. She appeared out of her bedroom a mere ten seconds later.

"Oh, Whitey! What a nice surprise! It's lovely to see you! How've you been?"

My mother practically shouted all of this while going up to Whitey and engulfing him in a huge hug.

      "I've been quite well, thank you. I heard that you're pursuing art."

      "Yes, I am," she replied with a satisfied grin, happy to have someone acknowledge her. "Would you like to see some?" She added eagerly.

      "Sure, if it's not too much trouble."

"Anything for the deputy that makes my daughter happy." My mother then sent an indiscreet wink in my direction, and was off to pick out her favourite art to show Whitey.

      My face was bright red when Whitey turned to look at me, a big smirk on his face. My mother, unfortunately, knew about my crush, but who else was I suppose to turn to. She was an excellent listener and always helped me with my problems in the past, so I figured why not. What's the worst that could happen? There was no one else I could talk to about this subject and my closest friend around my age was Whitey and I definitely wasn't going to talk to him about my crush on him. I was surely regretting my decision of informing my mother of this secret now.

"Oh, I make you happy now?" He asked in a somewhat sarcastic tone. There was something else laced in his voice, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Curiosity? Astonishment? Happiness?

I rolled my eyes and gently shoved him, causing a low chuckle to erupt from him. His laugh was the most beautiful music I had ever heard and could listen to all day and never tire listening to.

"You make me happy, too, in case you were wondering," Whitey added smoothly.

His comment made me blush even more, if that was possible.

"Well I'd hope so or else or friendship would be done for. I mean, we aren't best friends for nothing." I said all of this in a teasing tone, of course, but his face showed signs of disappointment.

Shouldn't he be happy instead of disappointed? All I said was that we're best friends—does he not want to be friends anymore? Does he not like me anymore? No that couldn't be right—he just admitted that I make him happy. Or maybe he was just lying to protect my feelings. I hope that wasn't the case. I prefer people to be honest with me from the start.

I was suddenly jarred from my thoughts of the dashing deputy when my mother returned. She was holding a recent drawing—one I had never seen before—and was going into great detail explaining her work to Whitey. He listened to her every word thoughtfully and seemingly interested, even though I knew he wasn't actually interested. He never straight out told me, but I could tell that art wasn't exactly his cup of tea. It warmed my heart to see him trying though.

Once my mother finally finished her little speech about her artwork, she suggested that we go to the kitchen for some tea.

      "Oh, thank you, ma'am, but I'm afraid I better get going. The town can't look after itself," Whited joked while flashing my mother his signature smile.