“She has to want to take that step, or there’s no point. I used to go to all the family support groups my senior year in high school and I realize it’s an illness, but she still pisses me off sometimes with her behavior.”
“I’m sure there have been good times, though.”
Rayne smirked as the elevator doors opened. Once we were on and headed for the lobby, she said, “I love her, I do, but it’s so difficult to deal with her. That’s why I moved so far away from Birmingham. I had to get away before I went crazy.”
“She’s not serious about the suicide comment, is she?” I asked with genuine concern.
“Huh? Oh, you mean the window thing. Momma’s a drunk but she loves herself way too much to ever do that. Trust me on that one.”
“If you say so,” I said. I drew her close to me and gave her a gigantic hug. “In that case, let’s go out and have a good time tonight. Okay?”
She gave me a peck on the lips, which turned into a deeper kiss; one I’d come to enjoy over the previous two weeks. She was quite the passionate kisser.
The elevator doors opened while we were still engaged in an embrace. There was an older man waiting to get on. He chuckled. “All this Valentine’s Day smooching is making me jealous. I might have to go find me a new babe.”
“Hey, Mr. Silverton,” Rayne said, blushing. “Sorry for the display.”
The old man chuckled. “It’s okay. I’ve been seeing action all day in Georgetown. People act like Valentine’s Day is Sex Day.”
“It’s all about being romantic,” I told him.
“Young man, I’ve been around the block many a times and we both know romance ultimately leads to sex.”
Rayne giggled. “He got you on that one, Yardley.”
He got on the elevator while we got off. When the doors closed on him, Rayne said, “I should’ve sent him up to my place to romance Momma.”
We both laughed. I said, “From the looks of him and the looks of your Momma, she might kill him in bed.”
Rayne replied, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s already left a trail of bodies in her path.”
I was kind of disappointed that she hadn’t introduced me to her neighbor. It made me feel insignificant in her life. Then again, we’d only started dating and if I had my way, soon she’d be introducing me to all her friends and family.
Twenty-four
Rayne
We arrived at the Iron Gate Inn Restaurant on N Street in the Dupont Circle area and it was mesmerizing. I had heard people speak about it but had never been. It was almost impossible to get reservations on a normal night so I knew Yardley must have made ours the second I’d agreed to spend Valentine’s Day with him.
The entryway was cobblestone and they had a cloistered stone terrace courtyard. The Baroque wood booths inside were cozy and I could see why people voted it one of the most romantic restaurants in Washington, D.C. They had a Mediterranean menu, which I wasn’t familiar with except for a takeout I had ordered from once or twice. I asked Yardley to order for me and we both had wild mushroom salad, braised lamb shank with orzo, and chocolate truffle pie for dessert.
The food was delectable but I had trouble concentrating on the ambiance because I was still pissed off at Momma. I couldn’t believe the way she’d acted in front of Yardley, offering to have a threesome with him. She was getting even sicker as she grew older. Heaven knows what she’d said to him while I was getting dressed. I’d started to ask him to go wait in his car but that would’ve seemed rude so I’d taken the chance of leaving him alone with her for a few minutes.
“What’s the matter, Rayne?” Yardley asked as he poured the last of a bottle of Chardonnay into my glass.
“I’m sorry that I’m not better company tonight.” I toyed with the last of my pie with a fork. “I’m so ashamed about my mother.”
He reached across the table and took my free hand. “It’s okay, baby. I realize that your mother and you are two completely different people. Although I must imagine that there was never a dull moment growing up in your house.”
I managed a smile. “That’s true, but she gets out of control and I don’t know what to say to her to calm her down. Now you see why I moved so far away from home.”
He and I had briefly discussed my childhood, my lack of a father figure and my mother’s drinking problem, but at the time, I was more like skirting the issue. Now it had shown up on my doorstep.
“How long will she be here? A couple of days?” he asked.
“From your lips to God’s ears.” I sighed. “She said she might stay for three weeks but I might be an alcoholic by then,” I stated jokingly. “I don’t think I can deal with her that long.”
He eyed me seductively. “Well, if you need a place to get away, you can stay with me.”