Staying Grounded [BXB]

Dinner Dance

SEBASTIAN:

It's late Sunday morning before Mum answers the phone to me. She was hesitant in agreeing to my invitation to dinner, but it's almost a month since we last saw each other, and despite everything, I know she misses me.

I arrive at Citreena's Bistro first, a good ten minutes early. The place isn't fancy, but it's popular, and I'm shown to one of the few empty tables by a skittish blond kid who looks vaguely familiar somehow. Big, dark eyes darting over me and then away, he flashes a quick smile as I take my seat beside the window and accept a couple of menus from him. 'Mikey' is the name on his tag. I think, maybe, it's a name I've heard Ashleigh mention.

"Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?" He asks.

"Just water, thanks."

"No problem. Be back in a few." Watching him weave his awkward way through the tables back toward the counter, I almost feel bad for his misfortune of serving us. He seems exactly the kind of boy Mum will delight in playing with. She'll have his life.

Judy's made me promise to be on my best behaviour tonight. I'm to hold my tongue in check and keep my temper securely leashed. Easier said than done, I'm sure she realises, but I understand just as well as she does that if I lose my shit, I'll lose my mum. Hence the public place.

My resolve, however, feels sorely tested from the very instant Mum steps through the door.

"There's my strapping young man!" She calls out with excessive enthusiasm. Her entrance attracts most of the room, one arm raised high and waving above her head. But it's her other arm that immediately arrests my notice, cast in plaster and cradled to her chest. "Hello, gorgeous!"

I take a deep, bracing breath and stand. "Mum," I manage, simply.

Mikey's halfway back, my glass of water in hand, as she busies her way toward me, bestowing a smile on each staring diner she passes, and he quick steps around her to reach the table first. Taking the drink from him with a nod of thanks, I inwardly groan, dropping back down on my seat, when he then makes the unwitting mistake of courteously drawing out the chair across from me.

Mum covers his hand with her own uninjured one before he has the chance to step back. "What a perfect gentleman." She sidles in close, invading his personal space.

"Um..." I swear there's a slight blush to his cheeks as he hastily straightens and extracts himself. "Drink?" He clears his throat. "What can I get you to drink?"

And so it begins. The poor kid's doomed himself right there.

I can hear the mischief in her voice. "Oh, orange juice would be wonderful, thank you so much."

"Okay, yep, no problem. I'll be back in a bit to take your food order."

He's still well within earshot when Mum picks up her menu and stage whispers, "yum!" She shamelessly side-eyes him across the full floor. "Everything here is so delicious."

"Orange juice, huh?" I refuse to humour her.

And I can sense, rather than see, the fractional dimming of her manic grin. "Well, I wouldn't want to invite your disapproval, now, would I?"

Like that's ever stopped you, my good sense curbs me from saying. Instead, I lift my glass of water and sip.

The light flutter of her fingers over the tableware betrays her nerves as I lean back and force myself to properly take her in. "You're looking well, love."

I wish I could say the same in return. She's as immaculately preened as she ever is, but the gloss of her auburn hair and rich crimson lips don't fool me. I'm no less distracted from the hurt masked behind her cheery hazel gaze than I am from that which the plaster cast makes glaringly apparent. All I'm able to reply is, "yeah, I'm good."