“Less than a day and it’s fake. We’re not real boyfriends.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “I don’t understand.”
I gave her a quick explanation, leaving out anything non-Mom friendly. “In a way, it’s a publicity stunt. We’re sort of trying it out before the tour.”
“That’s dishonest. Why is it necessary?”
Damn, she was too smart. “It’s a social media ploy. We may not even go through with it. I wanted you to know in case you heard anything from anyone else.”
“Hmm. I don’t like it, but I don’t know much about social media. Your boyfriend or girlfriend must be very understanding, Declan.” She smiled weakly.
“I’m single. I need to focus on the band for now.”
“That’s Tegan’s line,” she said with a laugh. “But if either of you is interested, my oncologist is gay, single, and very handsome. I’d be happy to be your wing-girl.”
“Very funny,” I deadpanned as I gathered dishes.
She snickered, stifling a yawn. “I’m teasing.”
“Hmph.”
“Are you tired?” Dec asked.
“I am. It’s been an exciting day for me. Knitting club and now you two…springing an almost-wedding on me, then taking it away. I’m exhausted.”
“No one said anything about a wedding. Why don’t you lie down? I’ll clean the kitchen,” I said.
“I’ll take you up on that. Declan, thank you for coming. It was so nice to visit with you. I had a feeling you’d grow into a talented and handsome man. When you’re rich and famous someday, I’ll tell all my friends I fed you after-school snacks and traded jelly beans with you before you knew how to hold a guitar. They’ll all be so jealous!”
“Speaking of jelly beans…” Dec grabbed the recyclable bag from the side table. “I brought you a couple of things.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Mom protested, slowly coming to her feet.
“It’s just a token, but…I think you’ll get it,” he said, pulling out a bag of jelly beans, the Funyuns he tortured me with earlier, a pack of gum, and a small azalea plant. He set each one in front of her deliberately. “According to my calculations, I owed you fifty bags of jelly beans when I lost the bet that Pluto is covered in ice. It didn’t make sense when I was ten. The Funyuns are self-explanatory. The gum and the azalea…they remind me of you.”
Tears pooled in my mother’s eyes. She dabbed at the corners with the napkin under the cookies she hadn’t touched and sniffed. “That’s very thoughtful.”
“I’m rooting for you. I’ve thought about you a lot over the years, but especially lately. You were always there for me when I needed someone and…if I can return the favor in any way, please let me know.”
Mom pulled him in for another fierce hug and released him with a labored sigh.
“Thank you. Don’t be a stranger. I don’t want to wait another decade to see you. And if you’re looking for a referral, I can vouch for this one.” She slipped her arm around my waist. “He’d make a great real boyfriend.”
“Okay, enough of that nonsense. Off to bed for you. I’ll clean up and lock up.” I set our plates in the sink as proof of my intentions.
“All right. I love you.” She kissed my cheek and hugged Dec.
I watched them surreptitiously as I rinsed the teacups. Declan in particular. It was hard to hate a guy who treated your sick mom like a fucking queen. His reverence and kindness undid me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I sealed the box of cookies and put them back in the pantry, then leaned against the counter with a heavy sigh as my mom’s footsteps faded.
“You okay?” Dec asked.
I raked my fingers through my hair and nodded. “Yeah. Are you?”
“Mmm. She looks good.”
“No, she doesn’t. She’s too pale and she tires so easily. It freaks me out to see her like this. Thanks for coming. You really did make her day.”
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“Technically, I didn’t invite you. We had a deal,” I snarked, fixating on his mouth.
“Right. I forgot about that,” he hummed.
I set the dish towel on the counter and glanced around the spotless kitchen. It was a large space with oak cabinetry, speckled granite countertops, and lots of nooks and crannies for Mom’s knickknacks. There were built-in shelves throughout the house filled with books, framed photos, and things we’d randomly collected over the years and decided were treasures. Seashells, rocks…you get the idea.
This wasn’t a house. It was home in the deepest sense of the word. The hint of illness and unease in this safe haven overwhelmed me. It felt oddly comforting to have Declan there.
I didn’t stop to register any significance. Nor did I think twice about the fact that he seemed to belong here. A house knows when a stranger has entered, but this house welcomed him. It wasn’t just my mom. It was as if the kitchen walls remembered his voice and the sound of his laughter. I wondered if it would feel as intense in other rooms.