Ok With Mum... I Think?

The door bell sounded. Barp! Late afternoon, Sunday. Pippa, Tommy's mum, was at the door. I'd had a few red wines by that stage and wished I hadn't answered the door, to tell you the truth.

What rushed through my mind as I stood with the door open. What are you doing with my son? Do you have designs on him? What do you mean by getting him drunk? Was I ready for this? I wasn’t sure.

"Hi," said Pippa. She was as breezy as you like. "I just wanted to come over and um...have a chat with you."

"Cool," I said. My stomach turned, as I stepped back and out of the way of the door.

“Is now convenient?”

"yes, sure. Come in."

We headed to the lounge. I offered tea, which she declined.

“I love your place,” she said.

“You’ve got a good eye...” I laughed. She did too. I meant that she was great with design, I didn’t mean I was. I'd helped her hang a painting in her lounge once.

She sat down on the couch. I sat opposite her. We gazed at each other momentarily. She played with her fingers. I jiggled my leg.

"So," I said. "What, ah, would you like to chat about?"

She smiled. "Oh, um, Tommy."

"Yes, Tommy," I said. That was no surprise. I guess it was the only thing we had in common, really. We'd chatted a bit, kind of bumped into each other. I'd helped her a few times with various things, when her husband was interstate.

"He's been coming over quite a lot lately. Over here."

"He has, he's a nice kid."

She smiled again, kind of self consciously. "Yes, kid. I guess that's what I want to talk about."

Ah, kid. Wow. “If you don’t,” I stumbled. “Um, want him to come over, you just say so...”

“No.” She laughed again. She really was beautiful, no mistaking where Tommy got his looks. “No. I was going to ask you the same thing.”

“Huh?”

She laughed. “He’s no trouble is he?”

“No trouble?” She was asking me if I was okay. Fancy that?

“If he’s a bother? I know he can be a bit self focussed... you know, just a kid and all...”

“No, he’s no trouble.”

“Oh, I’m so relieved you say that.” She sat back, kind of relaxed. “I was so concerned that he may be making a nuisance of himself. You know, I didn't want any bad feeling.”

“No not at all...”

“Oh, I’m so pleased to hear that,” she said. “I’m glad he can make friends like that. My husband and I work long hours and we’re not always home for him.”

“No, he’s not trouble,” I said. “He’s quite delightful really.”

I spied my red wine glass on the coffee table and suddenly had the taste for it.

“Would you like some red wine?” I asked.

“Actually, I’d love some," she said.

So, I got her a glass and poured some wine.



“Cheers.” We clinked glasses.

“Cheers,” she said.

“Here’s to grown children,” I said and immediately regretted it.

“Here’s to happy sons,” Pippa said.



“You know, it’s good for Tommy to have someone like you?”

“Oh, I’m glad you think so.” Like me?

“You know, I don’t think my husband or I really know any...” She sipped her wine. “Any...” She smiled. I didn’t say anything, as I wasn’t sure what she was going to say and I didn’t want to interrupt. I mean, I had an idea. She blushed. “I just want Tommy to be happy, like any mother does.”

“Don’t you think he’s happy?”

“I wonder. I hope. Do you think...?”

“Think what?”

"That he's happy?"

She's his mother, shouldn't she know. I guess that isn't always promised. “He always seems happy to me.”



“You know he was so funny last night. He’s hilarious when he’s a bit drunk... I guess I shouldn't say that, you know. But he's always so gentle and funny. Goofy.”

“I wondered if that’s what you wanted to talk to me about...”

“Tommy drinking?” She laughed. “No.” She laughed again. “He’s eighteen, after all. A man, really.”

“I’m glad.”

“He was so happy when he came home last night.” She screwed up her mouth and tears welled in her eyes, just a little. “It’s lovely to see. I haven’t seen him smile so much...” Her voice trailed off. She raised her eyebrows. “You make him happy.”

“Oh. Well.” I didn’t know what to say. I think I blushed, as Nick’s words came into my head. "Do you..." I was going to say think.

“I’ve embarrassed you, I’m sorry.” She raised her hand, pushed at her hair. “I’m putting too much onto you... tell me if...”

“No, not at all.” I didn’t really know what she was saying.

“I just want someone to be kind to him.” She smiled again. “Someone to treat him well.”

“He’s easy to have around.”

She looked down at her hands. "Show him... um, er... you know, take his hand..." She looked up. "I'm not making sense, am I?"

"Oh yes, you are..." What was she saying?

“I’m glad...” She finished her wine. “My husband and I don’t know anything about...” She glanced at her watch. “Is that the time.” She stood up. “You’re a godsend. Tommy needs someone who... who... well, you know...”

“I think.”

“Someone to help him, ah... answer his questions, if nothing else.”

“I can do that.”

“Someone he can trust. Lead him through.”

“A-ha.” What is she saying?

“I’ve got to go, sorry. Business dinner with my husband." She rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air. "I’d so like to stay and talk some more.”

“It’s been a pleasure.” I winced, that sounded so formal.

“I’m glad we got all of that cleared up.”

“Me too.” What cleared up?

She leant across and kissed me on the cheek. She smelt of Chanel No 5, my grandmother used to wear it.

“I won’t have to worry now when Tommy says he’s coming over here.”

“No, no you won’t.”

“Thanks so much,” she said at the door.

And then she was gone. And I was scratching my head wondering if I’d really got the gist of the conversation, at all.