by K Carr
“Yes,” I drawled, stressing the vowel and earning a giggle from Megan for my effort. “Of course they scanned her arm. Sheesh. I know how to take care of our daughter.” The moment those jokey, absentminded words left my mouth I realized how they sounded. Shit. If he had taken any offense over my careless words he gave no discernible indication. I felt sick to my stomach, immediately wondering if he truly hadn’t thought anything untoward about my comment…or whether he was hiding it.
“Daddy, have you ever broken your arm?” Megan asked. She tried to swing her legs around so she could sit up straight, and a tiny hiccup of pain came from her as the movement jolted her arm.
“Be careful, darling,” Connor rushed to soothe her. He spared me a look and I knew by the wincing around his eyes when his gaze skittered away from mine that my careless words had made a mark. “And, no. I’ve never broken my arm.”
“You did hurt your leg though,” I reminded him. “A few months before we got married. Remember? You and Lala went climbing and-”
“And my line snapped,” Connor nodded then grunted as he reminisced. “I was only a few feet off the ground. Lala freaked out.”
I nervously twirled on a few strands of my hair, trying to act nonchalant. Should I allude to feeling remorse over my previous words? Would that only make things more awkward? “Yeah, she told me afterwards how bad she would’ve felt if something worse had happened to you.” I sent him a feeble smile. “She also said she would’ve buried you out there and denied all knowledge of seeing you that day.”
Connor snorted, then chuckled. He said to Megan, “Your Aunt Lala is a tricky one.”
“Daddy,” Megan gingerly wriggled around in her space, trying to find a comfortable spot. “We don’t go climbing anymore. You used to take us all the time.”
By us she meant her and Cory. The air caught in my throat as Connor cleared his.
“Well,” He chucked her under the chin and stood up. “Maybe when your arm is all better, we’ll go to the climbing centre.”
I immediately reached out to curl my hand around his arm and step into his personal space. With my free hand, I cupped his cheek, noted his uncertain expression and whispered, “Sorry, it came out wrong.”
“What are you whispering, Mommy?” Megan asked. “It’s rude to whisper. Grandma says so.”
Connor managed a small smile, a shrug too. “It’s fine.” He turned towards Megan, thus pulling his cheek away from my touch. Was it a deliberate action? “And sometimes Mommies and Daddies do need to whisper.”
“When?” Megan challenged. “Grandma says it’s rude.” If her Grandma said it, well, it was canon and no one could tell her differently.
I tugged on his arm and Connor twisted his head back to me. “Sorry,” I spoke normally, no more whispers.
“What are you sorry for, Mommy?” Megan asked. She was shaking her head at me. “Is it the whispering? You should be telling me sorry.”
“It’s alright,” he muttered and forced a smile to his mouth.
I knew it wasn’t alright, but I appreciated the verbal pardon he had given to me, even if he might not have truly meant it.
“Here we are,” Mom came back into the living room balancing a tray of clean bowls and utensils. “Time to eat, and a good thing too because I am starving. Your daddy is very smart, Meg, bringing us food like this, ha, saves me from cooking dinner for you and your mom. All the Christmas food and leftovers from our New Year’s party are finished.” Connor hurried over to take the tray from her and she clucked her tongue at him, fondly chastising him with a, “I can carry a tray without help. Thank you very much.”
“Thank you very much.” Megan mimicked her grandmother’s tart tone and Connor chuckled as he held his hands up and stepped out of my Mom’s way.
Mom glanced over her shoulder at him as she walk over to the large coffee table. “But will you be a sweetheart and go get us all some drinks?”
I made a giggle/snort sort of sound and Mom winked at me. Connor grumbled loudly as he headed out the living room. It was all done in jest, and Megan beamed with delight at our antics.
“I want apple juice, Daddy.” she yelled from the sofa.
I took the tray off my mom and carefully placed it on the coffee table. Then I started dishing out food for us all. When Connor returned with a carton of apple juice and four cups, I took it from him and poured us all a drink while telling him to sit down and eat. We had just started our meal when the doorbell rang. Before my mom could rise up from her seat, Connor was already on his feet. He put his chopsticks down, waving a hand at my mom while saying, “You eat. I’ll check. It’s probably one of those survey people,” He stretched his arms above his head and warned us, “I saw a few of them knocking on doors a couple of streets over when I drove here.”
Mom and I groaned out loud. Megan slurped her wanton soup and kindly suggested we ignore the doorbell. Connor strode out the room wearing a determined expression. Whoever rang the bell would be swiftly turned away. A minute passed before we heard Connor yell out for my mom. Frowning, she put her food down and wiped her mouth before standing up.
“Who is it?” I put my bowl down also.
My mom shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going to find out, aren’t I?”
I jumped to my feet as she hurried out the room. Sending Megan a warning look, I said, “Stay here and don’t mess about with your food.”
“Don’t leave me,” Megan whined.
“I’m not leaving you,” I assured her, already halfway to the door. “I’m just going to check who is at the door,”
“But I’ll be all alone,” Megan called in a plaintive voice.
“Finish your soup,” I got to the doorway and rounded it, only to spot Connor walking back with a small scowl on his face.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“There’s some guy at the door for your mom,” he said with a weird look on his face.
“A guy?” I was confused. “One of the neighbours?”
Connor rolled his blue eyes at me. “I know the neighbours, Jen. It’s some other guy,” Connor looked over his shoulder back down the hallway. “He had flowers. What the hell?”
“Flowers?” My eyes widened.
“Yeah,” Connor folded his arms across his chest. “Rose sent me back here before I could ask who he was!”
“Huh,” I pointed into the living room. “You wait here and I’ll go see who this is,”
“Has anyone ever brought her flowers like this?”
“Not that I know of,” I was itching to go see who it was. “Wait? Is it a delivery guy delivering the flowers or is it a guy who brought her flowers?”
“It’s a man who brought her flowers, Jen,” he groused. “She knew him.”
“Old or young?”
Connor sucked his teeth. “An old-ish guy, maybe a few years older than Rose.”
“Eh,” I stroked my chin. “My mom isn’t old by the way. If you’re saying he’s old-ish then adding he’s a few years older than my mom, you’re basically calling my mom old, which she isn’t-”
“Jen,” he growled. “That’s not important. There’s a guy out front with flowers for your mom.”
“Ok,” I cocked my head at him. “Why are you so,” I toss my hands up. “Grumpy all of a sudden?”
Connor eyes widened incredulously. “Some man just turned up here with flowers for your mom -” He stopped, index finger held up as he craned his head. “Shh. Do you hear that?”
I strained my hearing too. “She’s laughing.”
Connor nodded. “Go find out who it is.” he ordered, then added a sharp, “Be cool about it,” as I hurried off.
I would be cool about it. I sped down the hallway, turned the corner and made my way down the next hallway towards the front door. “Oh, hello, Mr Granger.” My feet carried me to the space right behind my mother’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
He sent my mom a quick glance and cleared his throat. “A little misunderstanding. I overhe
ard the ladies at the Centre saying Rose had to leave because of an accident, and I,” He cleared his throat again. “I mistakenly thought she had hurt herself.”
“You brought her flowers,” I said, eyeing the bouquet in my mom’s arms. “How nice of you.”
“I was just telling Ewan about Megan’s little accident,” Mom explained.
“Do you want me to put those in some water for you, Mom?” I asked.
It was a large bouquet, and a really lovely gesture from Mr Granger. But he could’ve just called my mom if he was that concerned about her well-being. I mean, I guess they were friends as opposed to acquaintances. Mr Granger was a board member of the charity which ran the women’s shelter my mom volunteered at, and had always shown a vested interest in the staff and how they handled the stresses of working with vulnerable women. He was one of the nicer board members, a few of them were quite detached in my opinion. Dare I even say callous? Mr Granger was nice though.
“Thank you, Jennifer,” Mom handed over the flowers.
“Food’s getting cold,” Connor’s deep voice came from down the hallway, startling the three of us.
I twisted around, mom did also, to see Connor at the very end of the hallway observing us. He spun on his heels and disappeared back into the house.
“I’m sorry,” Mr Granger blurted out and we turned back toward him. “I didn’t know you’d be having dinner this early. I’ll let you get on with it then.”
“Oh, it’s fine,”
“It’s fine,”
Mom and I spoke at the same time then laughed.
“I’m glad you’re ok,” Mr Granger said to my mom with solemn sincerity.
He smiled again at her and I don’t know how it happened but a few moments later he was being invited in for a cup of coffee and some Chinese food. Connor had bought a lot of food.
“Connor, Megan,” Mom started the introductions when we had returned to the back living room after I had sorted the flowers out. “This is Mr Granger, he’s someone I work with,” she explained in simple terms for Megan.
Megan looked at her grandmother, then me, then Connor, then back to her grandmother. She was doing her checks, it was something my mom had taught me and we had both taught Megan…and Cory. When meeting strangers she always looked at which one of her safe adult was with her for confirmation it was ok to acknowledge the stranger.
“Hello, Mr Granger,” she said then finished slurping the soup on her spoon.
Connor gave him a terse nod of head from where he sat.
Mom, a gracious hostess, offered Mr Granger his choice of the dishes Connor had brought over and he settled for the kung po, just like my mom.
“Erm, a fork and knife will do nicely,” he murmured, refusing the fresh chopsticks I had been holding out to him. I handed him the utensils and he beamed, “Thank you, Jennifer.”
Connor cocked his head. “You don’t know how to use chopsticks, Mr Granger?”
“Please, call me Ewan; and unfortunately, it’s not a skill I have mastered,” Mr Granger replied with an embarrassed chuckle.
“Huh,” Connor muttered as if the inability to use chopsticks was some fatal character flaw. What was wrong with him?
I squinted in his direction while Mom and Mr Granger chatted in-between bites. Connor was acting weird. I had never seen anyone eat so aggressively with chopsticks before! Megan finished her soup and asked for some of Connor’s leftover noodles to be mixed with my beef for her.
“So, Mr Granger,” Connor handed Megan a bowl of noodles and beef. He made a show of passing her some chopsticks also. “How long have you known Rose?”
It was a normal question, but the manner in which it was posed by Connor made both my mom and I pause for a moment. She caught my gaze, eyebrows arched in confusion. I lifted my shoulders to convey I had no idea what was wrong with him either.
“We’ve known each other for what?” Mom tilted her head at Mr Granger. “Five years now?”
Mr Granger was nodding enthusiastically. “Yes, Five years, four months. That’s how long you’ve been a volunteer at the Centre,” He glanced at me. “Your mother is an angel, everyone loves her, and honestly,” He turned his attention to Connor. “Things would run a whole lot less smoothly if she wasn’t there. You can ask Jennifer as she’s been helping out there for a few months now. She can attest to how important Rose is in the office.”
“Huh,” Connor grunted with a tight smile. “So are you Rose’s boss or something?”
I explained. “Mr Granger is on the charity’s board. He’s one of the few who take a vested interest in the day-to-day running of the charity,”
Mr Granger made a sound of embarrassment as he tutted at me. “The other board members may not be as involved as me but they do care, Jennifer.” He looked at Connor. “I’m not Rose’s boss-”
Connor cut him off with a cool, “Technically you are,” Then he popped some noodles in his mouth.
Mom and I both shared a glance after watching him continue with his aggressive chewing. His gaze never left Mr Granger’s face. I cleared my throat, the vibes coming off Connor were very funky. Smiling I asked Mr Granger how he was enjoying his food.
“I had wanton soup,” Megan spoke up. “It was nice but it only had six wantons in it.” She winced as she shuffled around in her seat. “Daddy, I counted and it only had six. My soup always has nine.”
Connor’s features relaxed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. They were probably rushing to get the order ready. Next time I’ll make sure there are nine wantons.” Connor turned back to Mr Granger. “So you’ve known Rose for five years. Funny, she’s never mentioned you.”
“Connor,” I put my bowl and chopsticks down. He was using ‘so’ a whole lot and it was said with an accusatory tone.
“What?” It was almost a snap, just a decibel lower than what a snap would be.
Mr Granger looked uncomfortable.
“Would you like something to drink?” I said, hoping to dispel some of the awkwardness Connor was deliberately putting out into the atmosphere.
“Ah, yes,” Mr Granger murmured graciously. “Anything will do.”
“I think it’s weird,” Connor announced as I rose to my feet. “Don’t you, hon?” He turned his narrowed gaze back to Mr Granger. “A boss turning up at his employee’s home with flowers.” Connor squinted at my mom. “I think it’s extremely weird.” He scowled at Mr Granger once more. “Maybe that’s just me.”
“It is,” I blurted out, embarrassed beyond measure over Connor’s strange behaviour. Mom was peering at him as if he had lost his mind.
Connor nodded vigorously in my direction. “Right? You think it’s weird too-”
“No,” I stopped his erroneous thinking. “I think it’s just you.” Giving him a pointed glare, I twisted on my heels to ask Mr Granger, “Would you prefer a hot drink? Or does a cold one take your fancy?”
“I’ll have what everyone else is having, Jennifer. Thank you.”
“I’ll just go get a glass,” I said with a warm smile. Then I turned my attention once more to my husband, who was back to chewing aggressively while scrutinizing Mr Granger. “Connor, can you give me a hand in the kitchen?”
Connor cocked his head, reluctantly dragging his gaze towards me. “What for?”
I exhaled slowly. “The nice glasses are on the top shelf-”
“No, they’re not, Mommy,” Megan interrupted cheerily. She’d been silently focused on her food and ignoring us adults. Or maybe she was listening intently. Kids did that, feigning disinterest while sneakily logging each word uttered. “They’re on the middle shelf-”
“The nice ones, sweetie. Eat up your food.” I quickly cut her off before giving Connor a hard stare.
He muttered something under his breath, put his bowl and chopsticks down, then rose to his feet. “We’ll be right back.”
My mom arched an eyebrow at him. I grabbed his arm and herded him out the room. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I hissed the moment we were out
of earshot.
“What?” Connor grumbled, deliberately shaking my grip off.
“You are being rude to Mr Granger!” I pushed him along the way to the kitchen. “Are you crazy? Why are you acting this way?”
Connor huffed and picked up the pace. “And you’re being complacent. Does it not strike you as odd he showed up here? I mean, have you ever seen a man come here to visit your mom like this? With flowers?”
I paused, frowning to myself. “No, but, she has a lot of friends, and you’ve seen the get-togethers she’s thrown over the years. She has loads of friends. The neighbours are always at the fences or our gate chatting away to her-”
“I’m not talking about the neighbours,” he groused as we neared the kitchen. “In all the years I have known Rose, I have never seen a dude roll up here like this.”
I scoffed and slipped past him to enter the kitchen. “You’re being weird. He’s her work colleague,”
Connor snorted derisively. He beat me to the cupboards and took down a clean glass from the middle shelf. Megan had almost blown my cover. “Flowers, babe. He brought her flowers. I know you might not see it, but your mom is a good looking woman-”
“Hey,” I cut him off tartly. “I know my mom looks good. Where do you think I get it from?”
He scowled, then started grinning, then went back to scowling. “Stop fishing for compliments. As I was saying,” Swapping the glass between his hands, Connor went on a tirade. “She’s a good looking woman, has her own house, doesn’t need to work. Your dad wisely made sure you were both provided for in case the unexpected ever happened, which it did unfortunately.” He shook his head. “I’m simply looking out for my one and only mother-in-law. Men are sharks and this Mr Granger is mistaken if he thinks he’s going to eat my mother-in-law.”
Double fucking meaning! When his eyebrows shot up in a pointed way, I huffed, outraged at his unspoken suggestion and extremely embarrassed by said suggestion! Spluttering, I jabbed a finger through the air at him. “That’s – you are so wrong for that, Connor.”
He shrugged. “Your mom’s a catch and I’m sure she has needs too, Jen.”