“Do you want me to stay in the car?” I ask.
“No. You’ll freeze. Come inside,” Dean says. I step out of the van, clutching my tote bag like it’s a life vest. Even though I’m not the one who should be nervous right now, I’m anxious to meet Dean’s mother.
“I can’t go up there. She’s going to scream at me.” Sierra stands behind the van, hiding from the wrath of her mother.
“No, she won’t. I told her I already yelled at you,” Dean reassures her.
I walk behind the two of them up the stairs of the porch to where Dean and Sierra’s mom is standing. She hugs Dean first, then Sierra.
“Hi,” She greets me with a hug as well. “I’m Laura. It’s nice to meet you.” She says in a quiet voice that’s very reminiscent of Dean’s way of speaking.
“I’m Madeline.” I introduce myself. “You have a very lovely home.”
“Please, come inside. All of you.” Laura says, and Dean holds the door open. Sierra goes in first, and I follow. Sierra goes straight into the kitchen and right up the stairs presumably to her bedroom.
“Should I take my shoes off?” I ask.
“Yes, please, make yourself at home.” Laura says, putting on slippers. Dean directs me to the right of the foyer, where there’s a small living room illuminated by a wood pellet stove. Nothing quite matches in this room, but it’s still very homey. There’s a massive red, Persian style rug covering what seems to be original, pine hardwood floors. I sit on an ancient plaid fabric sofa and take off my sneakers and coat. I rest my coat on the arm of the sofa, and gaze around the room while Dean and Laura are whispering in the kitchen.
There are framed photos on every available wall space. Some of Sierra, some of Dean. There are several photos of them together, and it makes their age difference extra obvious, where Sierra is a toddler and Dean is a lanky pre-teen. Occasionally, there’s a photo of them with a small, fluffy dog.
My eye catches on one where it must be summertime. There’s a stubborn Dean pulling a very tiny Sierra in a little red wagon through the grass. He looks especially ornery and grumpy, even as a child, but still, he entertains his sunshiny sister.
I see his high school graduation photo, and he looks so young. His much shorter haircut is almost jarring to look at. Of course—he’s not smiling, that grump. I see what his pharmaceutical school graduation photo hanging must be right next to it. He’s smiling in this one, wearing a white coat. He looks indubitably proud of himself, and I’m proud of him in return. I see why his mom framed this photo.
Just under his graduation photo, is a much older photo. It’s a man holding a little baby, and for a minute, I wonder if it’s Dean. But the white outfit the baby is in makes me think it’s Sierra. I’m tempted to take it off the wall and inspect the back of the photo, but I’m interrupted by Laura.
“Here, have some tea.” She hands me a white mug withBEST MOM EVERprinted on the front. I gingerly take the mug while she sets a plate of fudge cookies on the living room table.
“Where’s Dean?” I ask.
“On the phone with the towing company.” Laura answers, sitting down across from me in a well-worn recliner. “Always doing the most, that boy.”
I give a small laugh and take a cookie.
“Where are you from?” Laura asks.
“York Falls. Down by Portland,” I say.
“Ah, yes. In York Falls,” Laura recalls. “I haven’t been. How do you like it there?”
“I like it well enough. I’ve lived there the last six years or so.”
“And what do you do for work?”
“I’m a virtual assistant so I work from home.” I explain.
“So, you could work pretty much from anywhere?”
“Yes, I guess that’s true,” I say. I’ve never thought about leaving York Falls. That’s where my life with Andy was.
“If my job was like that, I’d be working by the beach.” Laura laughs.
“What do you do?” I ask her.
“I’m a kindergarten teacher,” She says. “As much as I’d like the beach, I can’t leave the kids here. I’ve lived here all my life.”
I give her a soft smile, she’s a pleasant woman. “Thank you for welcoming me. And for the tea.”
