Of course, Naomi is fighting her very first battle out at lunch. With her mother. I offered to come with her. I wanted to meet Mrs. Barrett. But Naomi got a strange look on her face and made it clear she needed to break the news to her mother first.
My train of thought is broken by the sound of the front door opening and slamming shut.
“Okay, where is he?” an unfamiliar female voice says.
“Mom!” Naomi admonishes.
Seems like lunch went well.
I have the training and the skills to slip out of heavily guarded installations.
Now I would never use that training to avoid meeting Naomi’s mother, who is clearly on the hunt for me.
But given her tone, boy, am I tempted.
Instead, I set the box down and move toward the stairs, hearing Vivian Barrett prowling down below. "Your poor mother has to see you arrested, put in prison. Then they say you’re a fugitive, armed and dangerous. I didn’t know whether you were alive or dead. And you come back, and you’re safe and sound, and I thank God. But you tell me you meet some guy in the woods and you quit your job and you're just going to pick up and move across the country with him?"
I pause at the top of the stairs, listening.
I ain’t hiding.
I’m… scouting.
"I know it's a lot," Naomi says, her voice understanding but firm. "But I'm not making this decision lightly. He's the best man I've ever met. He saved me. And after what happened, I can’t work for the agency. And I don’t want to do any of this alone. I want to do it with him."
Can’t help the smile that puts on my face.
I walk down the rest of the stairs. They don’t see me. But I see Mrs. Barrett place her hands on Naomi’s shoulders.
“I’m thankful he was there to help you. And I don’t doubt you have feelings. I just don’t understand how you could just up and move and change your life for a man you just met.”
“You’ve been on me about finding a boyfriend for years. Grandbabies, grandbabies, grandbabies. You’re getting too old. You won’t live to see any. And now it’s too fast?”
“You’ve just had a traumatic experience. I’m just worried that you’re putting your feelings in the wrong place!”
Well, I think that’s my cue. I clear my throat and say, "Hello.”
They both turn. Naomi’s mother is an attractive woman. In fact, I’m not sure Naomi got any of her father in her looks.And if her mother is any indication, Naomi will be gorgeous forever.
Mrs. Barrett looks at me, startled by my presence even though she was on the hunt for me. “Oh,” she says, like she’s made a discovery. She looks up and down all six foot four inches of me. Her face turns from surprise, to wonder, to understanding. “Oh,” she says, about an octave lower, as if it’s completely clear why Naomi would move across the country with me.
“I’m Walker. Walker Cole.”
“Mom, stop staring,” Naomi hisses at her mother and gently nudges Mrs. Barrett’s arm.
“Pleased to meet you,” I say when Mrs. Barrett still doesn’t say anything, and offer my hand.
Mrs. Barrett still doesn’t speak. She doesn’t take my hand either. Instead, she rushes in and hugs me. If my face wasn’t red before, it sure is now.
“Thank you for bringing my daughter back to me,” she whispers against my chest, her embrace tight, emphasizing her words and the sentiment behind them. She pulls away and looks up at me, her eyes watery and full of gratitude. “My daughter hasn't told me everything that happened to her." She glances back at Naomi before meeting my eyes again. "But I know that if you weren't there, she might not have made it through."
I want to tell her that Naomi is stronger than she knows, but that’s not what Mrs. Barrett is looking for.
"You're welcome," I say simply.
Mrs. Barrett nods and pats my arm, her eyes searching mine. "You know, the greatest thing Naomi's father ever did for me was make me feel safe. I imagine you do the same for her."
It's not an observation. It's a request, a charge, from mother to her new protector.
