"Mom?" Damn it. I sound guilty.
She lets out a dramatic gasp, pressing her free hand to her chest. "Athena! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" I have to give her credit—she's not lacking in courage. Most women her age would hide in their bedrooms and call the police at the first hint of an intruder. Not Sophia Stavros. No, she arms herself with antique brassware and marches into the darkness ready for battle.
"What are you doing up?" I ask, desperately trying to maintain a casual stance while also ensuring that the bulge beneath my robe remains undetected. I shift my weight, crossing my arms low over my stomach in what I hope passes for a natural pose. I wonder briefly if this is what men feel like when they're trying to hide an inconvenient arousal. If so, I've gained a new appreciation for their struggle.
"What am I doing up?" She says loudly, her voice rising with each word until she's practically shouting. "What are YOU doing sneaking around at this ungodly hour? I heard noises! I thought we were being robbed!"
"Mom, please, lower your voice?—"
"Lower my voice?" She waves the candlestick for emphasis. "I wake up to strange sounds, find my daughter creeping around in the middle of the night, and you want me to lower my voice?"
I take a tentative step forward, trying to shift my awkward stance. "I thought I heard something outside, so I went to check. That's all."
She stares at me in disbelief and gestures at my robe. "Like that? Without a weapon? Are you completely insane, Athena?"
"I wasn't thinking," I mutter. "It was probably just a coyote."
"And you went to confront it in your bathrobe?" Mom plants her free hand on her hip, the candlestick now waving dangerously close to an antique vase. "Where is your common sense?"
"Mom, please be quiet, you'll wake?—"
"What's going on?" Demetria's sleep-laden voice drifts down the hallway before she appears next to Mom, wearing an oversized t-shirt. "Why is everyone yelling at two in the morning?" she asks, rubbing her eyes.
Great. Now my entire family is gathered for this mortifying moment. Just my luck that my normally heavy-sleeping sister chooses tonight to wake at the slightest disturbance.
"Your sister has lost her mind," my mother announces, gesturing toward me with the candlestick again. "There's a potential burglar—or a wild animal, apparently—and she just waltzes outside to say hello to it."
Demetria blinks sleepily, then focuses on me. Her eyebrows arch as she takes in my rigid posture, my crossed arms, the flush I can feel warming my cheeks.
"Why doesn't this place have proper security?" My mother continues, oblivious to the silent communication happening between her daughters. "Your neighbor Ruby has a security guard at her gate. Why don't you?"
"The Ridges has security at the entrance," I explain. "It's really very safe here." If only she knew I employ an entire security team next door with protocols that would impress the Pentagon.
"Safe is not relying on some guard half a mile away!"Mom huffs, the curlers bobbing indignantly. "And safe is not wandering outside in the middle of the night!"
"I’m sorry. I should have been more careful," I say, awkwardly shuffling on the spot.
Demetria's eyes narrow as she observes my strange shuffling. "Why are you standing like that?" she asks. "With your hands all..." She mimics my posture, exaggerating it grotesquely.
My heart stutters. "Like what?"
"I don’t know. Like a chimp or something."
"I have to pee," I blurt out, the first excuse that comes to mind. "Desperately. Can we please continue this in the morning?”
Demetria's not buying it for a second. She's known me too long, has an uncanny ability to sense when I'm hiding something. Since our talk by the pool, she's been watching me with a newfound awareness and I can practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she takes me in once more. Her lips twitch almost imperceptibly. She knows I snuck out to see Ruby. Let’s hope she keeps that to herself.
I silently plead with her not to push further, not to make this moment any more excruciating than it already is.
Demetria finally takes pity on me and her intervention saves me. "Come on, Mom," she says, taking the candlestick from our mother's hand. "Let’s go back to bed. I'm sure whatever she heard was nothing."
"Fine," my mother concedes, allowing Demetria to guide her back toward her room. "But tomorrow we're discussing security measures."
As they turn away, I exhale slowly, my shoulders slumping with relief. That was too close. I head upstairs and shuffle toward Ruby's bedroom, mentallycursing the cumbersome equipment still strapped to me. The things I do for pleasure.
Once safely inside, I lean against the closed door, letting my head fall back with a soft thud. Tonight was reckless but it felt good to surrender to impulse for once. To want something, someone, badly enough to take risks.
I slide the harness under the bed and sink into the sheets. My mother armed with antique brassware, my sister's thinly veiled amusement, and me—frozen in place with incriminating evidence literally strapped to my body. Tomorrow I'll face Demetria's knowing glances and Mom's security lecture, but tonight I'm simply too exhausted to care.
