As Long As You Love Me. Ann Aguirre

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      He laughed. “That’s no fair. You guys have been teaming up against me for years.”

      But he seemed much more upbeat when we went back to work. When he dropped me off at home several hours later, he confirmed, “Interview tomorrow?”

      “Yeah. I’ll be ready.”

      “I’ll be here at half past.”

      My mom was home when I came in. She had dinner on the table and there was a strange man adding the silverware. His back was to me so I only saw that he had narrow shoulders. Since I knew about Stuart, I wasn’t shocked exactly, but I did stop short.

      Damn, some warning would’ve been nice.

      “I need to wash up before I’m presentable,” I called, heading straight up the stairs.

      “Okay, the rolls need ten more minutes anyway.”

      Wow, if she was baking fresh bread, it meant she really wanted the meal to go well. In my mom’s mind, fresh-baked goods equaled fancy. I didn’t necessarily disagree with her. So I took a quick, second shower to rinse off the remodeling sweat and blow-dried my hair just enough so I didn’t look like I just got back from the gym. Then I put on a decent pair of jeans and a nice sweater.

      They were drinking wine in the living room when I came down. Stuart stood up as soon as he saw me, a sign of impeccable manners. He was in his late thirties, I guessed, which meant he was somewhat younger than my mom, but not enough of an age gap for it to seem like she was in the market for a boy toy. Plus, he wasn’t the type, physically: medium height, thinning dark hair, average features with a bony build. He also wore glasses and he seemed really anxious about his tie. By the look of him, I guessed he had Chinese heritage.

      “Nice to meet you.” I offered a hand for him to shake.

      “Likewise.” His palms were sweaty, which meant he was nervous. “I’m Stuart Lee.”

      I extrapolated that he cared about making a good impression. Since my mom liked him, it was enough for me to give him a fair shot. She hovered until I caught her eye and smiled; she relaxed visibly and hustled us both into the kitchen, where she had chicken stew simmering on low. I helped her dish it up and then she rescued the bread. As we were using the fine dishes, I was glad I’d swiped on some makeup.

      We ate a few bites in awkward silence before Stuart waded in with his game face on. “Miriam tells me you’re starting at a new college this summer.”

      “Yeah.” Through the main course, I explained my plans, trying to sound friendly and welcoming, even when the answers to his questions were obvious.

      “I hear computer science is a great field to get into,” he said. “Lots of growth.”

      “So I hear. How’s the insurance game?”

      “Steady. Auto insurance is required by law, and the older people get, the more they worry about death benefits.”

      Depressing dinner conversation, but his words had the ring of truth. “I can imagine.”

      “When you add in home owners, renters and those who need flood insurance, I have a pretty steady stream of customers.” He was trying to sound jovial. “And I get a lot of referrals, too. Once you build a rapport with people, they tell their friends about you.”

      My mom wore a frozen, slightly desperate look, as if she’d noticed that the conversation was a beached and dying whale but she didn’t know how to shove the unwieldy thing back into the ocean. “But there’s more to life than work, am I right? My favorite thing about Stuart is his incredible Frank Sinatra voice.”

      That was interesting. “You sing?”

      He blushed a little, and I saw what drew my mom to him; there was the sweetness she’d mentioned. “Not professionally.”

      Mom put in, “We met at karaoke. Stuart was on stage when I came in, and I just kind of...forgot to sit down.”

      He smiled at her, softness in his eyes. “I thought she was giving me a standing ovation, so I went over to talk to her.”

      She put her hand briefly over Stuart’s and said, “Well, I was, indirectly. I never heard a more beautiful rendition of ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin.’” Turning to me, she added, “He sang three more times that night, and he’d just quietly walk on stage, perch on a stool and then just own the room. Everyone shuts up the minute Stuart opens his mouth.”

      He laughed. “That doesn’t necessarily sound like a good thing, Miri.”

      So cute. I like them together.

      “It is, you know it is. Lauren, you have to come with us some night. I’m terrible, but we can sing the Spice Girls or Destiny’s Child together.”

      “Who?” I teased, like I hadn’t heard her blasting them before. My mom and I shared a mutual penchant for popular music. Hers was just...older than mine. “Let me know what night you want to go. Wait, since when does Sharon have a karaoke bar?” I considered the nightlife options around here and drew a blank.

      “We don’t. I drove over to Edison.”

      I smiled at Stuart. “Seems like it was a good move. Is that where you’re from?”

      “Not originally. I grew up in Peoria.”

      “Did you go to college in Illinois?”

      The question opened up a barrel of interesting conversation. Apparently Stuart graduated from Illinois State University in Normal, and then got his first job offer. He worked in Illinois until they transferred him to the office in Edison. I had to suppress a smile when he earnestly assured me he’d held the same job for seventeen years, he was thirty-nine and he owned his own home. In addition, he enjoyed classic movies, big band music, going to antique shops with my mom and, of course, karaoke. Thankfully, these revelations carried us through the chocolate cake she’d made for dessert and I avoided having more questions aimed my way. It wasn’t that I minded chatting with him, more that most people would judge my life a mess at the moment and I didn’t want advice from a guy I hardly knew.

      As I stood up to clear the table, I patted him lightly on the shoulder. “You can relax now. I approve and support you two.”

      He pretended to blot his brow with a napkin. “Whew. Miri said if I didn’t pass muster tonight, I’d be kicked to the curb.”

      “I never did,” she protested.

      “Why don’t you guys go watch a movie? I’ll wash up.”

      “Are you sure?” But it was obvious Mom wanted some Stuart time, so I made shooing motion and tidied up the kitchen.

      Then I tiptoed behind the couch and up the stairs. There was no question he was better for her than my dad, but their happiness made me feel a little melancholy. I mean, I didn’t begrudge her some companionship, but before, it was Mom and me, against the world. Now it was Miriam and Stuart. After I closed my door, I could still hear the rumble of their voices, so I stuck in my earbuds and curled up on the bed. Weirdly, I’d much rather be at Rob’s house, even though his kitchen was jacked up, and he only had one СКАЧАТЬ