Page 92 of Xavier

I watch as his forehead furrows and he taps on the screen. “Hello?” he answers, turning his back to me.

“Oh, okay. Um, don’t worry. Don’t touch anything. I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up and springs to his feet, jogging to the bathroom, barely turning to look at me,

“Sorry, babe. I’ve gotta go,” he says over his shoulder as he disappears.

I sit back, hugging the pillow to my chest, a chill suddenly falling around me.

I’m not a part of his life. I gave up that right. I have no right to feel like this. I push myself up off the bed, reaching my dress on the floor.

“Hey.” I look up, he’s standing there, naked, towel over his shoulder. “There’s something I have to do. Wanna come with?”

I feel myself nod. “But I need to shower first.”

He grins and holds his hand out to me.

“Your wish is my command.”

***

I don’t recognize the apartment building we arrive at thirty minutes later, or the apartment number on the door that Xavier knocks on.

“Where are we?” I ask for the countless time. He just ignores me and pulls a key out of his pocket and slides it into the lock.

“Hello? It’s me,” he calls out as he pushes the door open.

“Xavier?” A woman’s voice answers.

“Yes, where are you?” he says, pulling on my arm and closing the door behind me.

“Whose apartment is this?” I mouth and he just smiles and takes my hand.

“Come on,” he says, walking down the empty hallway.

It opens up into a large living area and I see an older woman perched on the sofa in the middle of the room, her leg propped up on the coffee table in front of her.

“Mom! What happened?” Xavier lets go of my hand and walks over to her, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

“What are you doing here?” she says to him, while eyeing me up and down. I’m speechless. I heard so much about her when Xavier and I were together in Maine, but I never met her. I never knew if he was keeping her from me or me from her. Either way, I try not to stare, but he looks just like her. How strange. “Who’s this?” she asks, once Xavier straightens up.

“Oh, Mom, this is, er…” he looks over, conflicted.

“Malynda,” I hear myself say, and it surprises me almost as much as Xavier, going by the way his eyes widen. “I’m Malynda,” I repeat, walking over and holding my hand out to her. I try not to admit to myself it’s because I want to see if she recognizes me by name.

Something flickers in her eyes, the same deep green eyes as the man’s standing next to her, and she takes my hand shaking it once. “I’m Denise. Denise Kent,” she says and drops my hand, but doesn’t stop staring at me.

I think I feel a chill, but I must be imagining it. It’s not cold in here.

Xavier is oblivious to it all as he scans the room.

“Mom! What happened?” he asks again, circling the coffee table, taking in the scattered broken glass and water and flowers strewn on the rug.

“Ugh, it’s nothing, I was moving this vase of flowers your brother sent me and trying to talk to him on the phone at the same time, but my ankle twisted and I dropped the vase on the floor. I’m fine. I was just going to rest for a bit longer before I cleaned it up.” Her eyes continue to bore into me even as she speaks.

“Mom. Don’t worry about that, just sit.”

“I’ll… I’ll get a mop,” I say, as ridiculous as it sounds. I don’t know where the mop is. I just need to get away from her probing eyes.