“No one knows who he is. Sometimes, I even think she was never sure,” Matty explained.
The other two finally stopped arguing and turned to look at us.
“Have you finished? Your friend and I are enjoying our tea, so feel free to join us whenever you feel like it,” Matty said, signaling the cups and the teapot.
I was sorry the woman hadn't finished telling me Wells’ story, but she had shed some light into the intriguing man. It sure explained a lot about who he was.
After that, the tea party became very awkward, but I didn’t mind. It was good to know he had a human side… sometimes I doubted that, with all his masks and coldness.
We left his mother’s house right after we finished eating.
“Do you visit your mother often?” I asked him while he was driving us back to his place.
“As little as possible,” he confessed. “We don’t get along… never did.”
“Why did you bring me with you?” I couldn’t help asking.
After all, we barely knew each other. Why did Wells feel the need to introduce me to his mother?
He shrugged. “I thought it would be interesting to see how she’d react,” he confessed, and though he didn’t seem to be lying, it was an awkward answer.
“Was it anything like you were hoping?”
“I didn’t think she would play the ‘concerned mother’ role. It was never her thing,” he said as if he was truly surprised.
“Well, I’m glad I was of use to you,” I mumbled, in an ironic tone.
“I knew you could handle it. You’re tougher than you look.”
“That’s a hell of an assumption coming from someone who barely knows me at all,” I grumbled.
“I know you’ve been through worse. The way you totally ignored her and started having tea with Matty, really got to her. I don’t think anyone else has ever ignored one of my mother’s tantrums the way you did,” he explained, and I could almost swear there was a hint of admiration on his tone.
“My mother was a lot like her… you know with the ability to turn things around to make them seem they were about her… I was never able to turn the tables on her, I guess I was too involved in the whole process,” I told him with some bitterness, “but your mother doesn’t have the same power over me, so it was easy to see her game.”
“She didn’t mean half of what she said,” he said as if comforting me.
“I wasn’t paying attention,” and it was the truth.
My little chat with Matty had been far more interesting.
He glanced at me, happily surprised. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
We got home at nightfall, and Wells disappeared into his studio after he rejected my offer to cook dinner. He said he wasn’t hungry and that I should make myself at home.
I wasn’t hungry, either. It had been an eventful day, and I had a lot in my mind. The questions swirled in my mind again and again, but I wasn’t anywhere near the answers.
At some point, I remembered there was a bottle of white wine in the fridge and decided I needed a drink. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I’d had my share of fun on my college days.
The white wine was exactly what I needed: something to numb me and perhaps lend me some clarity. Overthinking it wasn’t working, so why not try it?
Leaving my shoes in the bedroom and convinced I wasn’t going to bump into Wells, I didn’t bother to put on a robe over the large t-shirt I wore as a nightgown. The apartment’s central heating was so efficient, the temperature was always comfortable.
Remembering I still had chocolate cookies from last time I baked, I grabbed the bottle of wine, a cup, and a few cookies and sat at the kitchen table. It was a strange combination, but it worked for me.
“Late snack?” Wells asked me, his voice coming from behind me.
By then, my inhibitions had been dulled by the cool white wine and all those chocolate cookies, to the point I ignored the fact that I was practically naked, with just the oversized t-shirt on and that he was only wearing his pajama pants. His bare chest was a sight for sore eyes, and despite all the shit troubling me, I was no different from any other woman when it came to admiring God’s handywork.
