Page 18 of Hey Girl
As I ponder whether I want to subject myself to this and if so, how quickly I could get rid of whoever it is, a reminder dings on my phone, and I pull it out of my back pocket.
DAILY CHALLENGE, it boldly reminds me that I haven’t done anything to step out of my comfort zone today.
Shit-sticks.
Whoever is at my front door reminds me that they’re still there waiting on me by this time giving a gentle tap on the door.
Fine, fine…
I’ll answer the fucking door.
I pad cautiously to the front door and while I unclick the lock, I leave the chain on and open the door the six inches it allows.
“Since you keep shooting me down and won’t be my girlfriend, you’ve forced me to bring out the big guns,” Chris huffs and rolls his eyes before stepping closer. “So Rebecca, I’ve brought someone to meet you,” he finishes pleasantly.
Don’t shit your pants! I coach myself.
“Wh - who?” My traitorous voice box trembles as my eyes dart side to side through the narrow gap of the door.
“My mother,” he says plainly.
WHAT?!
Is she imaginary? Oh God is he one of those poor kids that lost his mom but pretends she’s still around?
“Where -?”
“She’s hiding in the bushes,” he supplies. “I told her I wanted to see how you felt about it before I introduced you and she wholeheartedly agreed.”
Oh my god.
“Why?”
“Because if anyone can vouch for me, it’s her. But I respect your boundaries, and if I had your phone number I would’ve called first. So if you’re not ready for this, just tell me to fuck off,” he finishes, folding his hands in front of him.
This is a lot.
Oh my God, I’m being Punk’d.
I need to close this door and go hide in my room and meditate or call my therapist- no!
“Okay.”
What the fuck?!
“Sweet! Come on up, Mom!”
I didn’t mean to say that! I meant to briefly discuss it further so I could make a comfortable decision and oh sweet mother of shit biscuits, here she is, coming up my steps.
In front of me, I find a free-spirited looking woman dressed in long and loose flowing blues and purples. Her long hair is wavy and blonde with some streaks of silver glinting in the afternoon sun. She wears a beautiful barrette on one side that seems to be made cleverly from some blue glass beading and her smile is radiant and kind of infectious. Too bad it doesn’t make it any easier for me to speak.
“Hi?” I weakly greet her, still mostly hidden behind my trusty thick door.
“Hello Rebecca,” her warm melodious voice is like melted chocolate- but wait…she knows my name! “Chris has told me so much about you, Sweetheart,” she tenderly explains.
Despite being a little overwhelming, Chris has been nice to me, and while I’m not thrilled he’s dropped by unannounced with his mother, she seems very sweet, and I can’t just slam the door in their faces or stand here with the chain-link on as if they’re lepers.
With fumbling hands, I undo the chain and slink back to open the door wider.