Shelley Galloway - The Good Mother

He looked up to see his mom hovering outside his door. He stood. “What’s up, Mom?”

“My bridge game was over early. Pat Kampf is sick.”

August couldn’t even remember all of his mother’s friends who were in poor health. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.” She waved a hand. “I have some business to discuss.”

“Okay.” Slowly he sat back down as his mom crossed to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Do you need something?”

“Money.”

This was unchartered territory. His mom had her own accounts, but had invested the bulk of her money in August’s name in case something happened to her. August had agreed to the arrangement reluctantly…only with the knowledge that his mother could have free and easy access to the funds whenever she wanted.

But this was the first time in two years that she’d ever asked. “Okay.” He got out his checkbook. “How much do you need?”

To his surprise, she looked taken aback. “You’re not going to grill me?”

“You’re my mother. Of course I’m not going to ask you questions about why you need money. Besides, we both agreed you were in charge of your own funds, right?”

“Right. But this might be different.” She hedged. “It’s a lot.”

August tried to keep his voice light, though inside he was really curious. What the devil was going on? “I assumed it was, since you saw the need to ask me and all.”

“This is hard. I don’t know how you’re going to react.”

Absently twirling the pen in between his fingers, he looked his mother over a little more carefully. Now he was getting worried. Was she sick? “How much do you need, Mom?”

“Three thousand dollars.”

He dropped his pen. Warily, he raised his head. His mother was sitting there across from him, rigid and tense, obviously begging for a fight.

He was frightened enough to let her have one. Was her insurance not paying for her drugs the way they’d planned on? “What happened? Are you sick?”

She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, August. I’m fine. This money is for…personal reasons.”

Huh? “Mom—”

“You said you wouldn’t interfere.”

“That’s before I knew you wanted three thousand dollars.” And before she was acting so strange.

She bit her lip. “It’s not for me. Not, really.”

“What is it for?”

“A club.”

“What kind of club?”

“A social one. August, there’s no other way to tell you this but straight out.” She took a deep breath and plunged in, saying the words in a jumbled mess. “For your information, I’m joining Harmonious Haven.”

Harmonious Haven. The singles club advertised during late-night syndicated shows on Channel 12. Couple after couple were highlighted, each looking more fit, handsome and romantic than the last. The couples made the matchmaking Internet site sound like the best thing since sliced bread, but August knew it had to be a scam.

Falling in love was never that easy.

Before he could think twice, all of August’s good intentions about being supportive of his mother went out the window. “Mom—”

“Don’t you ‘Mom’ me. I know what I’m doing.”

“It doesn’t sound like it.” Before he thought better of it, he said, “What happened to Dad?”

“Your father is buried at Park Hill, thank you very much.”

August blinked, amazed at just how much her words could hurt. “He’s barely been gone a year.”

“He was sick for a long time before that.”

“And your point is?”

His mother jabbed one French-manicured finger toward him. “Watch your mouth.”

“Watch my mouth? You watch yourself.”

“I need companionship.”

Companionship? Was she talking about sex? For a split second, he recalled the last time he and Erin had gone to bed. When had that been? Two months ago? Three?

It felt like a hell of a long time. “It’s not my business if you want to join Harmonious Haven,” he said slowly, doing his best to try and forget about his own lack of love life and focus on his mother’s. “I just think this is coming from out of the blue.”

“For you, maybe. For me, I’ve been thinking about joining for a while. I’ve been surfing the Web site.”

“Surfing?” When had she gotten so computer-savvy?

She continued as though he’d never spoken. “I even called the number and asked some questions. HH is a member of the Better Business Bureau.”

Now that he thought about it, his mother looked…fresh. Like she’d gone somewhere besides Suzy’s Salon to get her hair done. Like she’d gone to one of those fancy counters at the mall and gotten her makeup refreshed. Like she got one of those BOTOX injections and was looking better for it.

It all made him a little squeamish. “You’ve got a heart condition.”

“But it’s still beating, August.”

“But—”

“I’m better, August,” she said more gently. “The doctors say I’m better. I feel better. I’m ready to do things again. That’s why I need to join now.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, August realized just how hard it must have been for his mom to have to come to him for money. And to tell him the truth. After all, she certainly didn’t owe him any explanations.

Picking up the pen again, he said, “Is three thousand enough?”

“It’s enough.”

August pretended he didn’t notice that her eyes were shining. That she looked…happy. Signing the check, he handed it to her. “Will you be mad if I asked you to be careful?”

Her eyes softened and she stood, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’d be sad if you didn’t care. Thank you, dear.”

When he was alone again, August picked up the phone and started dialing Evie’s phone number. Obviously it was time to take some risks.

Jenna looked her mother up and down, paused to consider the invitation, then very carefully shook her head. “I don’t wanna go.”

It was a losing battle, but Evie braced herself to try again. She wanted to go on the cruise with August, but she could admit that she was chicken enough to need reinforcements. “Jenna, if you don’t go, you’ll wish you did.”

Jenna gave her a look that suggested she seriously doubted that. “What about Missy?”

“Missy’s too little to go on a boat, you know that.”

Hugging Neena tightly, Jenna scooted closer to the television remote. “I don’t wanna go, Momma. Me and Neena like staying here.”

“All right.” In spite of herself, Evie couldn’t help but admire her eldest daughter’s steadfastness. Actually, Evie wished she could borrow a little of that quality for herself. Ever since her phone conversation that morning with August, she’d gone through the gamut of emotions. Surprise that August asked her out, happiness that she could still get a date. Then, of course, pure fright set in.

Evie didn’t know how to date anymore. In her mind, dating was what she’d done in college. Those dates had involved bars and clubs, fraternity parties and walks on campus. It was fast-food restaurants and cheap movies.

She was pretty sure August knew how to date. She was fairly sure there was some dating ritual all current singles employed. They knew whether to open their car door or not. Whether to buy drinks or wait to be served. Knew the classy, happening clubs, listened to bands that didn’t cater to toddlers and wore the right shoes.

All Evie had been into lately was strawberry Quik, Kids Bop and a sturdy pair of Clarks.

Even though the battle was over and Jenna had come out victorious, Evie tried one last time. “I bet we’ll see lots of pretty fish.”

“Grandma’s taking me to the aquarium tomorrow,” her daughter volleyed right back. “Remember?” There was that tone again, the one her daughter had mastered mere months after learning to talk. Authoritative. Sure. Borderline bossy.