Hell Sweet, Kayla

9

I suck in a much needed air blowing it out slowly suddenly regretting why I accepted to join this meeting in the first place as my hand unconsciously grips my bag tighter hoping that it relaxes my tense nerve.

I see as my mum begins to wave her hand wildly from across the street wearing the biggest dark shade I have ever seen on her with a large straw hat.

Wanting to laugh at her dramatic appearance; rather swayed by the thought I am way beyond nervous to have lunch with my mum feeling a bile build up, wishing I had something to quench my parched throat.

I can’t do this; watching her signal that I cross over wearing the prettiest smile on her face very much excited to see me.

I bite my lips praying for God to give me courage because I am running out of it conflicted between ordering a new ride back to Cole’s or crossing over to have lunch with her.

I sigh accepting my fate. “Hey, what the fuck!” A driver shouts stepping hard on his brake that his suburban jerks hard.

Sheepishly. “Sorry. I am sorry.” Running back to the street in shock I blindly walked into the busy road.

“Well, don’t die on my car. Go die somewhere else, you crazy lady.” He shouts in anger giving me the stink eye before zooming off.

I look up to see my mum standing in fright, both hands cover her mouth. “I’m okay.” I shout knowing I almost gave her a heart attack.

This time, I look sideways for incoming vehicles now running across the road to where she awaits me. She pulls me in for a tight hug as I feel her body ease into mine.

Slowly, we pull apart. “Hey, mum.” I greet brushing my hair out of my face as a result of the strong wind.

Even with the dark shades blocking me and everyone else from seeing her beautiful brown orbs, I know how soft she will get, teary eyed at the instance.

“Don’t do that again to me, Kayla. Look before you cross.” I simply nod with a grin as flashback to when I was a baby and she does that often.

Clearing her throat taking her gaze from me to the road. She comments. “I feared you will raincheck on me.”

Stating. “As a matter of face I wanted to, mum.” Her face falls looking up knowing she is trying to hold back the tears.

I didn’t mean to hurt her with my words but word vomit as usual decided to show its ugly face at a time I do not need it. Yes, I thought it but it wasn’t intended to come out harsh, guilt eating me up.

She struts to the table by the left making herself comfortable on one of the chairs and I did the same wanting to dissolve the awkward tension that can be slice with a blunt blade.

And this is what I was avoiding. The awkwardness.

“How is dad?”

“How are you?” We say simultaneously breaking smiles on our face once more. Soon our waiter appears for our order.

“Hi, I’m Rick and I’ll be your waiter for the afternoon.” He greets politely albeit eyes on my mum whose eyes are busy scanning her menu. I smile watching the scene play out rather amused than offended.

Like what can I say, I took after my mum and get mistook as her sister. So why blame the poor champ from admiring my mother.

“Let me have your pen, Rick.” She finally looks up to him taking off her shades. The poor waiter face goes bright red in recognition of my infamous mother quickly handing her his pen as she ticks away her menu.

Mum flashes a toothy smile. “Thank you, Rick.” Damn, I’m quite sure he will sleep with his pen tonight with the way at which he grips it.

“I will have the salad and a white wine, get the bottle if possible; uhm spaghetti Bolognese, make it spicy with any seasoned protein the house has.” Slapping my menu close handing it over to him.