Boston's Man-Eater

XXXIII

"How old was he again?" Tess giggled as my mother dashed her tears away.

"Seven, that's when we decided that he needed to get glasses," she continued, and I blushed into a deep crimson.

"I don't know how it's possible to confuse your mother for another woman. Just how bad was your eyesight?" Tess inquired.

"It had nothing to do with my eyesight."

"So, you deliberately followed somebody else and got into their car which was completely different from yours."

"I was very preoccupied, and it wasn't my fault. The woman was also oblivious to it too."

"He's lucky she wasn't a child procurer," my dad said, and Tess' body stilled before relaxing again.

"He is lucky."

As the chatter proceeded, I surveyed her behavior. The previous light that had been glowing inside of her had dimmed, and I leaned over.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fantastic," she smiled, "Why?"

Unsure of what I had seen and felt, I waved it off.

It wasn't long until we were all tired out from the laughter and the games. My parents then announced their departure, and I walked them to the door.

It was a pretty enjoyable night, even Tess had loosened up to heights I'd never seen...higher than the dinner we had at her stone castle.

"My big baby, you be good," mom pinched my cheeks, and I leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"I'll pass by tomorrow after work."

"Good."

"Bye Tess, It was nice meeting you."

They hugged again before she joined dad in the hallway.

I closed the door as Tess stared at me with light eyes, the frozen glacier hidden behind the sparkling blues.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

"Your parents are really sweet."

"That means a lot."

"And I didn't actually get to say happy birthday..." she smiled, "...so, happy birthday."

"Thank you, Tess."

"You're welcome."

"So, how did you know it was my birthday today?"

"I have my connections."

"Is that so?"

"Can we sit down?"

"Sure," I said, and led her to the sofa.

"I got you something, I hope you like it."

"Hopefully it's also got nothing to do with that night at the ship."

"I owe you the conversation."

She reached into her pocket, and handed me a black velvety box which I hesitantly took.

It looked expensive.

"I hope you didn't get something extravagant."

Slowly opening it, there sat a vintage Piaget watch, designed with infinite care as the seconds ticked past the roman numerals.

My lips had parted with shock.

"What?"

"Tess, I can't accept this. It's too much."