“Oh good she can come,” Kelsey said as she set a lid over some sizzling pot stickers on a frying pan. Dwayne was sitting on the kitchen counter across from her and nodded when she looked over her shoulder, “You gonna meet her there?”
“I’m picking her up.”
“I can give you guys a ride,” she offered.
“No, I’m taking her home too. I’m not going to make you drive half an hour to Thorp and back.” Thorp probably wasn’t really a half an hour away. It was only a ten mile drive down the interstate, and her house was just another two miles off of the highway. But his mother had never been there and probably didn’t know that for sure.
Kelsey looked at him with a discerning eye, “You need to clean the inside of your car then.” She turned around and lifted the lid and rotated the pot stickers. “Especially if you’re hoping she’s gonna kiss you when you drop her off.” She looked over her shoulder again with that same shrewd eye, but a grin at the same time.
Dwayne grinned at her but kept his mouth shut. Not that it mattered all too much. If he admitted to his mom that, yes, he did plan on kissing Allie in his car, she probably wouldn’t protest. Kelsey like all mothers wanted her son to be happy and happened to also fit into the minority of mothers who believed kissing was clean and healthy. She explained that a certain amount of affection was always nice to have. As long as it never went too far, at which point she didn’t want to see or hear about it.
They both stayed in the kitchen a while not talking. Kelsey stayed focused the food, poking it now and then while her son sat quietly enjoying a calm evening. Dog was sitting by the back door and looked at Dwayne giving him a long sad cry, his tail flicking back and forth.
“His leg was pretty banged up” she said looking down at the cat. “Remember that he’s not allowed outside at night anymore.” She looked at him for affirmation.
“I know ol’ mum.”
Kelsey looked at him actually scowling slightly, “You may call me many things, but do not call your mother ‘ol’ mum’.” She said pointing a threatening spatula at him. “Now go wash up.”
© Copyright 2016 mkkrinler. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Literary Fiction
Poem / Poetry
Book / Literary Fiction
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