Hush (17 page)

His mouth opened and I could hear his breath hiss out in a gasp.

“Goodbye,” I said standing.

“I will see you Sunday?” he asked.

“I’ll be back,” I said.

* * *

“Sloanie!” cried my mother as I came down the escalator.

“Mom!” I said tumbling into her arms when I reached the floor and almost knocked her down.

“Oh Sloanie I’ve missed you,” she said. She smell
ed just as I remember. Like the earth
and flowers and
mom
. I pulled away to take in my mother. I was sad to say that it had been years since I had seen her.

Her brown hair was cut off at her shoulders and unlike the last time I had seen her, the brown strands were streaked with gray giving it a mousy appearance. Lines were around her eyes and mouth that hadn’t been there before. Her glasses hung from a beaded strand around her neck.

“Sloane, have you been crying?” she asked assessing me.

I knew my eyes had to be red and puffy. “Uh, yeah. Siva,” I said.

“Ah,” she said. “Are you and him?” she waggled her eyebrows.

“Yeah,” I said. “And mom. I’m crazy about him but- I just have some things to think about,” I said.

“Don’t we all,” she said leading me out of the airport and towards the parking garage. “But Sloanie don’t go and have a midlife crisis on me. You’re far too young.” She slung her arm across my shoulders.

“I don’t think that’s going to happen, yet,” I said.

My mom shook her head. “Oh Sloanie, where is that accent from? You sound like a cross between a southern gal and the Queen of England.”

“Well,” I said, “I did grow up in the south and I now live in London. It’s bound to have rubbed off on me,” I smiled.

She unlocked her silver Acura TSX and popped the trunk. I hefted my suitcase and bag into it. The car rumbled to life and before I knew it we were out in the afternoon light and it was blinding.

“Ow,” I said squinting my eyes and digging my sunglasses out of my purse.

“It’s just a little sun, Sloanie, it’ll be good for your skin. You’re too pale,” she remarked.

“I’m not pale,” I said, “you’re too tan.”

She tsked her tongue.

“Well, Sloanie, how does it feel to be back in Savannah?” she asked.

“Too hot,” I said.

She laughed. “It is hot,” she said. She patted my leg. “Oh honey, it’s so good to see you.”

“It’s weird being back here,” I said. “I’ve grown so used to London that this seems so…”

“Foreign?” she remarked. “I’m sure it does. Are you hungry, Sloane?” she asked.

“Uh- yeah,” I said and my stomach rumbled in agreement.

“Good,” she said, “I made biscuits and gravy.”

“Yum,” I moaned. “I’ve really missed biscuits and gravy.”

My mom laughed, getting off the highway, and turning on the back road that led to her neighborhood.

“Now, I’ve made some changes…” she said and bit her lip. Must be where I got the habit.

“Changes?” I asked.

“I painted the outside and I redid the guestroom,” she said.
The guestroom, meaning my room.

“Oh,” I said. “Mom, I’m sure it looks great.”

“It’s different,” she said and turned into the driveway so I got the first look at my childhood home.

The once white one-story house with red shutters was now a pale blue house with orange shutters and an orange front door.

“It looks great,” I told her, even though I was freaking out on the inside.

“You really like it?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Oh good. I was worried,” she said and hopped out of the car with the energy of a twelve year old.

I grabbed my suitcase from the trunk and went inside. The living room seemed unchanged.

Old plaid couch, green recliner, wooden coffee table, pale green walls, and it still smelled the same. Like dogs and my mom’s garden.

Right on time three little lapsa opsa’s came running at me.

“Hey Mo-Mo, Mollie, Maddie,” I said petting each dog. They licked and sniffed my hand.

“I told you they missed you,” my mom said from her small, sunny yellow, kitchen.

“Oh, please. They probably think I’m a stranger.”

My mom came in and said in her gooey, I’m-talking-for-the-dogs voice, “Oh, we’d never forget our big sister. Never.”

“Mom, they’re dogs,” I said.

She gasped. “They are my companions,” she said.

I threw my hands up, “World, I give you the crazy dog lady.”

My mom harrumphed and marched into the kitchen. “I thought you wanted gravy and biscuits,” she said.

“I do,” I said following her and grabbing a plate.

“Then stop poking fun of
your mother and eat,” she said fixing herself a plate.

I laughed. “I’ve missed you, mom.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “I missed you too until ten seconds ago.”

We sat down at the little table to eat our lunch. We were about halfway through when the doorbell rang.

“Can you get that?” asked my mom.

“I’m home less than an hour and you already have me answering your door?” I quirked my brow and stood.

I opened the door to find a good looking guy, a little older than me, standing at the door holding a flat of flowers.

“Sloane, is that you?” he asked. He had a strong jaw, tan skin, brown eyes, and brown hair that
was
turning a blonde color from exposure to the sun.

“Uh- yeah,” I said. “Do I know you?”

“Nate. Nate Harrelson. We went to school together. I was a grade ahead of you. I run my parent’s garden nursery now,” he said.

“
Right
,” I said, the puzzle pieces clicking together. I was going to kill my mother. “Why don’t I take those from you?” I asked holding out my arms.

“I usually just take them around back,” he said.

“Oh okay,” I said holding the door open for him.

“
Nate
,” my mother said, in false surprise, confirming my thoughts. I wanted to groan but I resisted.
Although
,
I did narrow my eyes in calculation at my mother.
She opened the backdoor and let him outside, kind of like a dog, I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of my lips.

“Isn’t he good looking?” my mom hissed quietly like she was afraid to be overheard. Which was absurd since the door was closed and he was outside.

“Yeah,” I said, “but mom I have a boyfriend.”

My mom pretended to look around. “I don’t see him. How do I know he’s even real?”

“Ugh- mom,” I whined.

“Oh shush,” she said. “He’s a nice boy.”

“I don’t care, mom. I have Siva…”
I think. I’m so confused.

Nate came back inside, his longish brown hair falling in his face; he brushed it back before giving me a blinding smile.

“All taken care of
Mrs. C,” he said.

“Oh call me, Tammi,” she said.

“Tammi,” he said. He turned to me, his hands in his pockets, and said, “Sloane, it’s good to see. How long are you home for?”

“I leave Sunday,” I wanted to push him out the door.

“Maybe we could do dinner before you leave?” he suggested.

“No,” I said at the same time that my mother said, “She’d love to.”

Nate took my mother’s answer, “Good, how about tomorrow? Six o’ clock?”

“She’ll be ready,” mom said and I wanted to hit her.

I looked at Nate and shrugged my shoulders. “I really can’t. I have a boyfriend.”

His smile faltered but he blundered forward anyway. “Just as friends. It doesn’t have to be date.”

“But we’re not friends,” I said.

“
Sloane
,” my mom said in her voice that brooked no argument.

“Dinner will be lovely,” I said and felt like a sixteen year old girl living at home again.

“Great,” he said undeterred. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” and then thankfully he left.

“
Mom
,” I hissed.

“Sloane, he’s a nice guy. Just give him a shot.”

“Mommy, I don’t live here. I live across the ocean and I have a boyfriend,” I said with my hands on my hips and tapping my foot.  

“So?” she said.

“I love him, mom,” I said.

“Just pacify me,” she said.

“You’re crazy,” I said shaking my head and heading to the guestroom.

My childhood room was… well, no longer my childhood room. My pale purple walls were now green. My white dresser was gone and replaced by a bright yellow one. The quilt on the bed was white with green flowers stitched on it. Everything was
bright.
I felt like I needed sunglasses.

I couldn’t believe my mom was trying to hook me up. I hadn’t been home a day yet and it wasn’t like I was staying here. But that was my mom. She drove me crazy sometimes, well most of the time, but I still loved her. It was just her way.

I flipped my suitcase open and ran my fingers roughly through my hair. My phone dinged with a text.

Did you get in safe?
Siva.

Yes,
I typed back.

Call me later
…
That is
…
if you want to.

I held my breath and finally answered.
Maybe.

Maybe is better than no
, he said.

I guess it was.

Chapter Thirteen

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” I hissed at my mother.

She rolled her hazel eyes at me. “Sloanie, it’s just a date.”

“And I have a boyfriend,” I glared at her.

She shook her head. “Just put the dress on,” she said.

“Mom,” I whined. I didn’t care if I sounded like a petulant little child. Right now I was being treated like one. Sometimes I think my mother forgot that
I was twenty-three and not... well three
.

“Sloanie, please, for your mother?” she pouted her lips and batted her eyes at me. Growing up, I had been the responsible one, always taking care of my mother. The only things in life my mother stuck by were my dad, gardening, and unfortunately in this moment, me.

“Just hand me the dress,” I said leaving out a few choice words. Siva’s bad language was starting to rub off on me.

My mom had gone out today, “to pick up some more plants,” and come back with a dress. A very tight, little black dress that showed way more cleavage than I was comfortable with. I think she was trying to kill me.

I slipped the dress on, while she watched, she was probably afraid I’d attack it with scissors and ruin it if she turned her back.

“Happy?” I asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “Let me do your make up.”

“
Mom!
” I complained but she was already towing me to the bathroom where an assortment of cosmetics littered the top. She closed the toilet lid and plunked me down with a shove to my shoulders. “Mom, I can do my own make up.”

“Oh please,” she said, “If it’s left up to you, you’ll where no makeup.”

“That would be preferable,” I said.

“Hold still,” she commanded grabbing my chin with her fingers.

“Mom,” I wiggled.

“Sloanie,” she said. “The less you wiggle the quicker this will be done.”

“This is torture,” I complained.

“Oh please, Sloane, most women think this is fun,” she said.

“Well, not me,” I said.

Her grip on my chin tightened. She swiped some red lipstick across my lips and a smoky gray shadow across my lids.

“Hold still,” she commanded, coming at me with a mascara wand. I held very still. She swiped the black goo onto my lashes.

“Am I done?” I asked, daring to let hope light my words.

“Not even
close,” she smiled at me.

She added bronzer to my cheeks and temple and then a hint of blush. Then she got a look at my hands. “Sloanie! Your nails!” she cried. “Can’t you get a manicure in London?” my mom asked.

“I don’t like people touching my nails,” I said.

“Well, I’m about to,” she said grabbing a bottle of nail polish from her cosmetics bag. What else did she have in there?

Before I could protest she was swiping a gray colored polish onto my naked my nails. She disappeared from the bathroom and went down the hall returning a moment later with a little fan to dry my nails.

The doorbell rang.

“Ooh that’s him!” my mom cried jumping up and down.

“Why don’t you date him, mom? You seem to really like him,” I smiled.

She stopped jumping. “Oh, I couldn’t. He’s much too young for me,” she laughed wickedly and went to get the door.

“Haven’t you ever heard of cougars!” I yelled after her.

I kept my fingers drying in front of the fan, stalling for a few more minutes.

Please let this awful night end before it starts
, I prayed. But I had no such luck.

“Sloane!” called my mom.

Showtime.

Nate stood in the living room talking to my mother. He smiled when he saw me. He had a nice smile but it was nothing compared to Siva’s megawatt smile. He hugged me and kissed my cheek. I tried not to show my annoyance.

“These are for you,” he said handing me a bouquet of lilies.

“Thanks,” I said and tried to muster some sort of exuberance but it fell completely flat.

“And these are for you,” he said handing my mom a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Oh they’re lovely, Nate. You’re such a gentleman,” she swooned.

I rolled my eyes and Nate saw me. Color flooded my cheeks and Nate winked.

“We better get going,” Nate said.

“Oh of course,” said my mom. “Sloane, hand me those and I’ll put them in some water.” I handed her the flowers. “
Haaaave
fuuuuuun
,” she drawled out the words.

“Bye Tammi,” said Nate.

Finally we escaped the house and my crazy mother.

Nate put his hand on the small of my back to guide me. I flinched and he dropped his hand.

He held the passenger door of his Nissan Titan open for me.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

He climbed into the truck and started it. The radio blared a country song. “Sorry,” he said and turned the volume down.

Neither one of us said anything the entire ride to the restaurant. Nate awkwardly cleared his throat several times like he was about to say something but always decided against it. He pulled into the lot of a local family owned restaurant.

Final
ly I had something to say, “Do
Ginger and Fred still own this?” I asked.

He smiled, obviously relieved to have the silence broken. “Of course,” he said.

“I haven’t seen them in forever,” I remarked.

“Well come on then,” said Nate.

We walked into the restaurant and this time Nate didn’t touch me.
Ever since the incident with Mac
I wouldn’t let any man except Siva touch me. Just a passing brush of shoulders, by accident, would send me into hysterics.

The restaurant was loud and boisterous like it always was. A game of pool was going on in the corner.

“Cory! Samantha!” I cried recognizing two of the people playing.

“Sloane Campbell in the flesh! It can’t be!” cried Samantha abandoning the game and hugging me. “How have you been?” she asked.

“I’m good,” I said. “London’s great.”

“Oh, Sloane, you always were too good for this place,” Samantha sighed pulling away.

“How are you Samantha? You and Cory still together?” I asked peeking over my shoulder at the slight guy leaning against the pool table.

“I’m great,” she said. She motioned Cory over and laced their hands together. “We’ve been married for almost a year now,” she said.

“Oh my God!” I cried. “I can’t believe it! I mean I always knew you two would end up married but this young? Wow,” I said.

“We’re not that young,” she said.

I rolled my eyes. “Twenty-three is young Samantha.”

“Oh Sloane, I see you’re still set in your ways. I’ve missed you. Are you back home for good?” she asked.

“Just a visit,” I said. “I go back to London on Sunday.”

“I’m going to grab us a table,” said Nate.

“Okay,” I said and turned back to Samantha.

She waggled her eyebrows. “Sloane,” she said, “you dirty little girl. Nate Harrelson? I had the biggest crush on him in high school.”

“Hey,” said Cory. “I thought you only had eyes for me,” he grinned so we knew he was joking.

“I can look,” she said, “but I can’t touch. Same goes for you.” She turned back to me. “So are you two on a date?” she asked.

“Kind of. Not really. No,” I said. “I have a boyfriend back in London but my mom… You know how she is. When she wants something she gets it.”

“Except for you to move back here,” Samantha said.

“Except for that,” I said. “I love London. But… I don’t know how happy I am with my job.”

Samantha clucked her tongue. “Maybe you should quit. Do something new, exciting,” she said.

“Maybe I will,” I said.

“Sloane!” called Nate. “I’ve got a table.”

I winced and looked at Samantha. “That’s my que to leave,” I said.

Nate was waving me over to the table. He pulled out my chair and I slid into the table.

I looked over the menu and decided on fried chicken. I didn’t care if it wasn’t proper date food. This was, after all, far from a proper date.

I ordered and turned to Nate. He seemed relaxed, completely at ease, despite my obvious reluctance to be here.

The waitress came back with our glasses of water and I racked my brain for something, anything, to ask Nate.

“So… you own your parents nursery now?” I asked.

And he was off. “Yeah,” he said straightening, “It wasn’t my plan. I wanted to be a lawyer but when they decided to sell it... Well,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I just hated to see it go. So I dropped out of college and here I am.”

“Here you are,” I said. “Lawyer? Plant man?” I weighed my hands for emphasis. “That’s quite a difference.”

“It is,” he said with a casual laugh. “But you do what you’ve got to do. I grew up working there. I hated to see a stranger own it.”

“No girlfriend?” I asked.

“Nope, no girlfriend,” he said.

“Why not? If you don’t mind me asking, that is,” I said.

“Just haven’t met the right girl yet. Someday,” he said. He leaned towards me. “I’m sorry you got pushed into this.”

I flicked my hand to show him it was no big deal… even though it
had
been. “My mom… she’s desperate to get me to move back here. God knows I love her but I wish she wouldn’t meddle.”

Nate laughed. “My mom won’t stop meddling in my love life. She’s always mumbling about grandkids and how she’ll be dead before I’m married. I’m twenty-four,” he said, “I’m still young.”

“My mom says the same thing,” I shrugged my shoulders. “I guess we better get used to it.”

“So Sloane,” said Nate, “Why on earth did you want to move to London to be a journalist? Couldn’t you have done the same thing here?” he asked.

“I could have,” I said, “but… it wouldn’t have been the same. I just needed to get away. My dad was from London. He always talked about taking me there and when he died…” I shrugged. “It just seemed like a good way to keep a part of him.”

“That makes sense,” he said. “But don’t you miss your mom?”

“Yeah, of course I do. But even if I lived here I wouldn’t be living with my mother. I still wouldn’t see her every day.”

“But you would see her more than once a year,” he said.

“Touché,” I said. “I really should visit more,” I whispered under my breath.

“I’m sorry,” Nate said, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. This is probably why I don’t have a girlfriend. I never say the right thing.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You only voiced my own thoughts. I don’t know why I don’t visit more. Maybe it’s because I’m scared I might get stuck here and never leave.”

“Why would that happen?” he asked, moving back so the waitress could put our plates on the table.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged my shoulders. “My mom’s the only family I have left and she’s here.”

“You have to make your own way,” said Nate.

“Then why aren’t you a lawyer?” I asked with a quirk of my brow.

He smirked. “I’m happy where I’m at in my life. Maybe fate intervened for a reason?” he said.

“Do you think that happens?” I asked. “Do you really believe that fate controls everything?”

“Maybe not everything but I do believes it play
s
a part in all our lives. If not I’d be wearing a suit right now, barking into my cell phone, and not here with you,” he said. “I’m glad I’m here.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “As friends,” he added.

“Fate,” I said, “do you think maybe… Oh God I can’t believe I’m talking about this with you but-
Well
, you’re a guy. I went back to Siva’s, that’s my boyfriend,” I added for clarification, “flat before my flight and I caught him with another woman. He… well actually
I
found him at the airport and he swears nothing happened. I believe him but- if what you say about fate is true do you think maybe it’s telling me we aren’t meant to be together?” I asked Nate.

Nate swallowed a bite of mashed potatoes before leaning towards me. “Sloane, I think that’s for you to decide. Do you love him?” he asked.

I swallowed. “More than I ever thought it was possible. It scares me how much I love him,” I added in a whisper.

“You have your answer then,” he said, “this is just a speed bump. You just move on from it. Your eyes lit up when you said his name. That’s rare, Sloane, really rare. I hope I feel that way about someone someday.”

“No, you don’t,” I said shaking my head and taking a sip of my water, “It’s miserable loving someone like this. Especially loving Siva. He’s
complicated
.”

Nate snorted. “Everyone’s complicated, Sloane, don’t forget that.”

We finished our meal, I insisted on paying my own, and then joined Samantha and Cory for a game of pool. I felt like I was in high school again. Just laughing and hanging out with my friends. Samantha had been a good friend of mine since middle school but we fell out of touch when I moved to London. She and Cory had dated off and on but I always thought they would end up together. They were perfect for each other. Samantha was loud and boisterous and Cory was quiet and thoughtful.