“Sorry? What are you sorry for?” Candace wondered. Michelle just hung her head. “Shell?”
“I’m sorry Marianne upset you so much.”
Candace nodded. “I’m all right.”
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Is…Jameson is important to you,” Michelle said quietly.
Candace was surprised at the observation. “She’s a friend.”
Michelle let the response linger for a while. She returned her focus to the book in her lap. She thought a different approach might be more successful. After she had felt a sufficient amount of time had passed to lower her mother’s guard, she spoke. “Is she pretty?” Michelle asked a bit playfully.
“She’s beautiful,” Candace replied as if the question had come from within. Realizing that it had come from Michelle, she flushed with embarrassment. “I…”
“I figured,” Michelle commented with a smile.
“It’s not what,” Candace began to stammer. Michelle arched an eyebrow at her mother. “Shell, it’s not like that. She’s a friend; that’s all.”
Michelle smiled at her mother. “I look forward to meeting her.”
“You want to meet Jameson?” Candace suddenly felt a wave of nausea hit her.
“Some reason that you wouldn’t want me to?”
“No, of course, not.”
Michelle giggled. “Don’t worry Mom, I prefer them short and blonde, or maybe redhead. I guess I could…”
“What?” Candace interrupted.
“What do you mean; what?” Michelle laughed. “And, I prefer them under thirty.” Candace’s jaw fell slack. “Mom? You did know that I like girls? I mean, you met Donna. You met Rebecca.”
Candace started to laugh. “Your sister will undoubtedly blame me.”
“I didn’t think I needed to spell it out for you,” Michelle laughed. “And, don’t let Marianne fool you.”
“Excuse me?”
“She kissed more than one cheerleader under a bleacher,” Michelle winked.
“Stop!”
“Okay, I made that up,” Michelle admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell me before now?” Candace asked.
“You mean you really didn’t know?”
“No, I knew,” Candace admitted.
“I guess I just was waiting for the right time.”
“Why now?”
Michelle went to sit beside her mother. “Maybe I just thought you should know that I love you no matter what, just like I know you love me no matter what.”
“I know that,” Candace said.
“So?”
“What?” Candace chuckled.
“Come on, Mom, the architect? Beautiful?”
“Do you have any idea how odd this conversation is?” Candace asked.
“What? A lesbian mom and her lesbian daughter talking about hot chics?”
“Shell, I think I am past the hot chics phase.”
“So, Jameson isn’t hot?”
Candace threw a pillow at her daughter. “Are you sure you haven’t already met?”
“Why? Think she’d like me?”
“Lunatics,” Candace laughed. “I am certain she will.”
“Good! Let’s call her!” Michelle ran for the phone. Candace just laughed. “Chicken!” Michelle taunted her mother. “You can argue with heads of state and you’re afraid to call one little lesbian?”
“No, smart ass. She’s away for the weekend.”
“What? She has no phone? Is she impaired somehow; technically? How old is this woman?” Michelle narrowed her gaze.
“No, she’s not impaired; technically or otherwise,” Candace replied. Michelle waited for her mother to continue with a growing smirk. “All right! She’s thirty-five!” Candace exclaimed in exasperation.
“Oh my God, my mother is a cougar! Senator Candace Cougar!”
“What part of she is a friend did you not understand?” Candace laughed at her daughter’s theatrics.
“A young, smart, hot, happens to be a lesbian friend,” Michelle pointed out. Candace rolled her eyes. “So, why are you lying on that couch? Don’t you have her number?”
“Of course.”
“Hello!”
“Shell!” Candace couldn’t help but laugh. Michelle was, in many ways, her best friend. They had always been kindred spirits. Candace thought most people would find it unbelievable, but she had felt the bond between them from the moment Michelle was born. Much like she had felt a bond with Pearl the first day she sat with her in her granddad’s kitchen, and much like the connection she felt the moment she saw Jameson Reid standing in her doorway. She shook her head. “She’s a friend. A friend who happens to be twenty years my junior,” she reminded her daughter.
Michelle retrieved her mother’s cell phone from the side table and put it in Candace’s hand. “Senator Fletcher, meet the twenty-first century,” she said. Candace sighed. “We can watch the news on phones we carry in our pockets, open car doors without a key, a woman can marry anyone she chooses, even another woman, even if she is…wait for it twenty years younger, oh, and the entire world now knows Rock Hudson was, in fact, gay,” Michelle declared.
“I’m not getting married,” Candace said flatly.
“Won’t be getting much of anything if you can’t even make a call,” Michelle said with a broad grin before starting to run away.
Candace threw another pillow at her daughter. “Lunatic!”
“Call her!”
Candace looked at the phone in her hands and sighed. “Call her, huh?”
“Might help!”
With a deep breath, Candace closed her eyes and pressed the name on the screen.
Chapter Six: Baby Steps
“Hello?” Jameson answered the call in disbelief. Candace found herself tongue-tied for a moment, wondering what excuse she could use for the call. “Candace?” Jameson began. “You there?”
“Sorry, yes, I’m here.”
“Did you butt dial me?”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, you called me, but you sound surprised to hear my voice,” Jameson observed with a chuckle.
Candace laughed softly. “I’m not sure my butt, as you put it, is quite that talented,” she said in reply.
“That’s a good thing, trust me. Dana dialed me once at about one in the morning. Let’s just say I got an earful of more than I ever needed to hear,” Jameson said. “So, what can I do for you?”
“Nothing, unless you would like to bring over some Chinese food to go with this bottle of wine I opened.”
“Craving Chinese food? Really? Too much home cooking?” Jameson asked.
“Let’s just say I could use a fortune cookie about now,” Candace said. “How’s your visit home?”
“Fine. Always interesting here. Lots of unsolicited motherly advice. You know how it goes.”
“Mm. I do, except in my case it seems to be lots of unsolicited daughters’ advice.”
“Oh.” Candace had told Jameson a bit about all of her children. Pearl had filled in some of the blanks. “Issues with the remodel?”
“If Marianne could, she would remodel my entire life,” Candace answered flatly.
“Ouch.”
“Then again, so would Shell; just in a different way it seems,” Candace laughed.
“Sounds like a spirited weekend.”
“I’ll tell you something, they never really change and as much as they think they grow up; they never really change,” Candace said affectionately. She was still angry with Marianne’s line of questioning and her daughter’s unfair assessment of Jameson, but that was Marianne. At the end of the day, Candace loved all three of her children more than anything in her life, even with their quirks, habits, and unwanted advice.
Jameson listened to the sudden lilt in Candace’s voice. “So, wine to celebrate the remodel or wine to forget about it?”
“Depends on which remodel you are talking about; my house or my life?”
�
�Do you want to remodel your life?” Jameson asked.
“No,” Candace replied. Jameson nodded on the other end of the phone. “Shell was quite interested in your plans,” Candace said.
“Oh really? Which would she like to see more of; the Roman statuary or the bird watching motif?”
Candace laughed. “I think you could leave out the well-endowed Romans,” she said. “So, I’ll assume she will agree with me on the other as well. Seems my daughter, and I have similar tastes.”
“Apple didn’t fall far from the tree, as they say?”
“Not that apple it appears.”
Jameson laughed. “Did you know?”
“That Shell was a lesbian?”
“Yeah.”
“I knew. I was beginning to wonder if she did though,” Candace chuckled.
“You sound like my mother when I finally told her. How is it mothers seem to know these things before we do? Is it a hormone or something?”
Candace laughed at the genuine curiosity in Jameson’s voice. “If it is, I am unaware of it. I think it’s just that we have years to observe; everything. That’s what mothers do the most; you know? Observe. I’m sure my children would disagree, but it’s true. You only advise based on what you’ve come to understand. In my experience, it’s easier most times for an outsider to see things objectively.”
“Sounds like motherhood was good preparation for the congress,” Jameson interjected.
“I think it was,” Candace replied honestly. The conversation seemed to come abruptly to a halt; neither woman certain of what to say next. “So; when are you heading back?” Candace asked.
“Not sure yet,” Jameson replied. “You?”
“Shell is leaving late afternoon tomorrow. I fly back to D.C. Monday. Tomorrow will be a quiet day for us.”
“Chinese food?” Jameson suggested.
“Perhaps….Listen, sorry if I interrupted your….”
“You can interrupt me any time,” Jameson said.
Candace took a shaky breath. “Travel safely.”
“Don’t worry. I promised to obey all the signs on the way here. I’ll behave on the way home. I am, after all, working for a lawmaker. Wouldn’t be prudent to start breaking them.”
“I suppose not,” Candace agreed. “I’ll see you soon.”
“I hope so.” Jameson took a deep breath. “Candace?”
“Yes?”
“I’m glad you called. I was getting bored with no one to torture.”
Candace smiled. “Glad I could be your willing victim,” she said. “I’ll look forward to seeing what you devise for future torment.” Jameson laughed. “Good night, Jameson.”
“Night, Senator.”
***
Jameson felt her heart begin to thunder in her chest as she pulled her car into the long, narrow driveway that led to Candace Fletcher’s home. She glanced across to the passenger seat at the large paper bag that sat beside her. “Well, look at it this way,” she said aloud. “If no one is home, you won’t have to grocery shop for a week.”
“Mom?” Candace made her way to the sound of Michelle’s voice. “There’s a car headed up the driveway.” Candace peered out the window with her daughter. The moment she saw Jameson’s car, she began to smile. Michelle looked at her mother and fought to conceal her knowing smirk. “Let me guess; Jameson?”
Candace nodded and headed for the front door just as Jameson was exiting her car. She stood on the front step, smiling at the approaching architect. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Didn’t you request Chinese food?” Jameson held up the bag.
Candace bit her lip gently as Jameson stepped up to her. “You’re a lunatic; you know that?” she asked. Jameson just winked. “You drove all the way back here from Ithaca to deliver Chinese food?”
“Maybe I just missed you,” Jameson said without thinking. Candace stared at the woman before her as her heart rate instantly increased. “Besides, Pearl would never forgive me if you drank wine on an empty stomach,” Jameson pointed out. “Are you going to let me in?” she asked playfully.
“Depends,” Candace said.
“On?”
“How many fortune cookies are in that bag?”
“I don’t need a cookie to predict your future,” Jameson said.
“Really?”
Jameson closed her eyes and pretended to concentrate. “I see it now; chicken wings, spare ribs, lo mein, and wine.” She opened her eyes. “How’d I do?”
“Get in here, you lunatic.” Candace pulled Jameson through the door. “Shell!” Michelle sauntered into the hallway from the living room. “Jameson, this is my daughter, Michelle. Shell, this is Jameson Reid, snarky architect and part-time Chinese delivery driver.”
Michelle smiled. “Nice to meet you, Jameson.”
“J.D.,” Jameson said. “For some reason, your mother and Pearl insist on calling me Jameson. Everybody else calls me J.D.”
“It’s your name; isn’t it?” Candace asked.
“That it is, Senator Fletcher.”
Candace rolled her eyes, and Michelle reached for the bag in Jameson’s hands. “I’ll call you anything you’d like,” Michelle said, “as long as you feed me.” She took the bag and headed off for the kitchen.
“That’s the apple nearest the tree, huh?” Jameson asked. Candace nodded. “This should be an interesting lunch.”
“You hoping to torture in tandem?” Candace asked. Jameson shrugged. “That’s what I thought.”
***
“I never knew you had a pet bird,” Michelle looked at her mother. “That’s the real reason why you never let us have a cat; isn’t it?”
Candace mock glared at Jameson, who in turn snickered. “Don’t you have things to pack?” Candace asked her daughter.
Michelle winked at Jameson. “I suppose I do. I am surprised though.”
“About what?” Candace asked.
“Mom, you’ve run against some of the meanest S.O.B.’s in the country and you’re afraid of a cat?”
“I am not afraid of a cat,” Candace said indignantly. “I just prefer not to have to deal with them.”
“What did he look like?” Michelle asked.
“Who?” Candace replied.
“Jinx. What did he look like?”
“Black. He was a black cat. No one should name a black cat Jinx,” she groaned. “This is what happens.” Jameson hid her face in her hands to quell her laughter. Senator Candace Fletcher had, in an instant, taken on the persona of a wounded eight-year-old girl.
“You know, you always told us we needed face our fears to overcome them,” Michelle reminded her mother.
“I am not afraid of cats!” Candace defended herself. “Are you trying to tell me that you think I should allow Jameson to wallpaper this house with cats?”
Michelle shrugged. “No, I think you should get one. Pearl loves them. It would keep her company when you are away. And, Mom…a cat is not going to eat wallpaper. Let J.D. put up the birds. It’s pretty.”
Candace looked over at Jameson, who kept her face hidden in her hands. “Did you see this in my future?” Candace directed her question to Jameson.
“Well, your cookie did say Soon you will meet a friend from your past,” Jameson pointed out.
Candace smacked Jameson lightly. “I smell a conspiracy.”
Michelle laughed. “I’m out of here before she bombards me with pillows again,” she said. “It was nice meeting you J.D.”
“You too, Shell,” Jameson said. Candace sat shaking her head as she watched Michelle leave the room. “That apple is definitely from the same tree,” Jameson said definitively.
Candace shook her head again. “Lunatics,” she grumbled.
“Why don’t you?” Jameson asked.
“Why don’t I what?”
“Get a cat?” Jameson replied.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” Candace wondered.
“No.”
“You’re serious
.”
“Well? She doesn’t think you will,” Jameson gestured up the stairs. She was confident that Candace would take the bait. She enjoyed all of her conversations with Candace, but Jameson took particular pleasure in their banter.
Candace considered the statement for a moment. Jameson was issuing her a challenge, much like Michelle just had. Candace never backed down from a challenge. The youngest of three children, and the only girl; that was a lesson she had mastered early in life. A devious smile edged its way onto her lips. “I’ll tell you what,” she began. “You find a black, male cat that needs a home and I will agree to allow him the pleasure of Pearl’s company.”
Jameson pretended to consider the offer. “Done….If you name him Jinx.”
“Done,” Candace agreed.
“One question,” Jameson said.
“What is that?” Candace folded her arms across her chest.
“Whom should I bill for this service I am rendering; you or Jinx?” Jameson asked thoughtfully.
Candace lost all hope of maintaining her stoicism and laughed. “You are certifiable.”
***
“What on Earth is in there?” Pearl asked Jameson.
“In here?” Jameson pointed to the cardboard carrier.
“Yes, Jameson; in there.”
“Oh, that. That’s Jinx.” The look on Pearl’s face was comical, and Jameson started laughing.
“Explain yourself, young lady.”
“Well, Candace agreed that if I could find a black, male cat that needed a home, she would allow him the pleasure of your company,” Jameson explained. Pearl’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “I agreed to find a needy feline as long as she agreed to name him Jinx. It’s actually Shell’s fault.”
Pearl shook her head as if to clear her confusion. “What does Michelle have to do with this nonsense?”
Jameson sighed dramatically and set down the carrier. “We were having lunch and I was showing Shell some of the wallpaper designs. That led to the whole story of the cat that ate the canary….”
“Go on.”
“And, later Shell told Candace that she needed to face her fears.”
“Oh no.”
“I pointed out that her fortune cookie predicted she would meet a friend from her past….”
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