BAMBI

XXXII

Before I knew it, Prince was navigating me through the streets of Minneapolis in my little Honda Civic, on our way to his moms house. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was telling me this wasn't going to go well, but since Prince seemed so calm, I figured I was just overreacting.

"Ok, after you turn here, it's gonna be the fourth house on the right. The one with the yellow trim."

I pulled up to the house that fit the description Prince gave me. "This one?"

"Mhmm."

We exited the warmth of my tiny car out into the bitter cold of that fall afternoon. As we walked up the steps to the white cookie cutter house, I was slightly comforted by the ordinary look of the exterior. The remnants of rose bushes that had been cut back for the impending winter as well as the lawn over taken by dead crab grass made me feel like I just might be able to relate to them in some sort of way.

We continued up the steps that approached his mom's house and for the first time since she called the night before, I saw a bit of hesitation in his demeanor. He let out a heavy sigh and grabbed my hand, squeezing tightly. As my eyes met his, there was something very hard to read behind those hazel beauties that graced his face. They looked almost as if he was searching for some sort of reassurance, for someone to tell him it was going to be ok.

"You ok?"

"Yeah. I just haven't been here in a while." Stretching out his hand, Prince pressed the little white button on the house, ringing the bell.

After a slight commotion behind the painted wooden surface a beautiful woman, short in stature with curly box blonde hair answered the door. Her face lit up and a wide smile gave way to her pearly whites, "Hey baby!" She shouted, bringing Prince in for a hug. Wrapping her arms around him, I noticed her right hand clutching a delicate glass filled to the brim with some sort of red wine.

"Hey mom." The older woman turned, leading us into the living room of her dimly lit home where we gingerly sat down on the overstuffed tan leather sofa.

It wasn't until Prince cleared his throat after we sat down that she even acknowledged my presence. "Uh mom, this is Vivian."

I reached out my hand, hoping she'd return the gesture, "Hi, nice to meet you Mrs..." Looking to Prince to finish the last part of her name, "Baker." Prince and his mother said in unison.
"Mrs Baker." I finished.

She looked down at my hand in disgust, almost like she wanted to slap it, but I stubbornly kept it there until Prince scolded her with gritted teeth, "Mom!"

Her dainty hand met with mine with a flaccid, insincere shake. "Are you the one who's been answering my son's phone when I call his house?"

"Yep!" I let my attitude slip out with my loud one worded answer. No matter what, this woman wasn't going to like me so why try.

Maybe she was like that with all of his girlfriends, but from the moment she laid eyes on me I could tell Mrs Baker was not fond of me and frankly, I wasn't fond of her either. Nevertheless, she was the mother of the man I loved so I knew I just had to deal with her. The only resolution I could come up with was to just stay quiet for the remainder of the visit.

"Mom, so how much do you need?" Prince cut to the chase, probably hoping to break the thickening tension that was rapidly squeezing the air out of the room.

"Well I..." She closed her eyes and shook her head rapidly before continuing, "I don't feel comfortable discussing that openly." Her body shifted away from mine as she sat across from me, speaking coyly to her son, my presence clearly making her uncomfortable.