How It's Going To Be [h.s.]

Chapter 38

The following afternoon, there was a knock at my door. I felt a surge of excitement already knowing who would be waiting for me on the other side. As I turned the knob and opened the door, I saw her. Standing in the hallway outside my flat in front of Peter was my lovely mother.

"Hello!" she stepped into my flat and into my arms.

"Hi," I embraced her.

She was shorter than me, even in her heels. I could hardly remember my mother wearing any shoes that weren't heels. I could smell her familiar perfume and traces of hairspray. Her blonde hair pressed against my cheek as she gave me final squeeze.

"How was your flight?" I held her at arm's length to get a proper look at her. She wore a striped dress and black heels. Her handbag was bright red like her lipstick.

"Perfectly fine," she shrugged. "I'm just glad to be here and see you! You look much better than you did when you came to stay with Dad and me."

"I feel a lot better," I smiled. "I'm in a much better place."

"Oh!" My mother spun on her heel and held the door open further to allow Peter to enter my flat with her bags. "Peter, I'm so sorry."

"No problem," he grunted as he made his way to the spare room without any instruction. Apparently, he had done this before. I frowned as I watched him disappear around the corner.

"What a nice man," she nodded toward Peter. "Harry really didn't have to send his own driver to pick me up. He also didn't need to buy my plane ticket." My mother's lips formed a tight line as if she disapproved of his gesture.

"Harry wanted to," I reasoned. "I told him not to worry about it, but he insisted."

"I've never met anyone as giving as him." Her lips formed a soft smile as she thought about Harry. "He called me yesterday evening and we talked for about twenty minutes."

"Harry called you?" I asked.

"Harry and I are close, you know." She laughed hard. "Now! Take me shopping! Let's do something fun!"

"Yes, mother," I rolled my eyes playfully.

____________

We made light work of high-end shops and boutiques all over London. We tried on dress after dress, shoe after shoe, and bracelet after necklace after scarf after hat. We entered fitting rooms with armfuls of clothing and emerged wearing our finds to decide what to buy. We walked the streets of London with shopping bags dangling from the crooks of our elbows and smiles on our faces.

I stood with my mother at the cosmetics counter in a department store. She was with a consultant trying different shades of lipstick. I stood by and watched as she transitioned from Midnight Plum to French Rose. She blotted her lips with a tissue and turned to me for my input.

"I liked the pink one," I shrugged.

"Which pink one?"

I heard the quiet melody of my ringtone coming from inside my handbag. I struggled to retrieve my phone from the sea of miscellaneous items littering the bottom of the bag. Just before it went to voicemail, I answered, "Hello?"

"Are you with your mum?" The voice was quiet and slow. I knew the raspy sound by heart.

"I am." I couldn't keep the smile from my face. My mother shot me her own smirk as I turned away from the cosmetics counter.