Surreal

Chapter 4 | The Sketch

"Mummy? Mum! I'm going out again!" I call through the walls.

Sometimes I think it's a good thing Dad made the walls unusually thin. I don't think we have ever had a normal-toned conversation.

"Wait! You hold on a minute, young lady!"
She stomps across the upstairs floor and clamors down the steps, holding her low skirts above her ankles with a determined expression splayed across her face.

Halting directly in front of me, she releases her fist-full of skirt and folds her arms across her chest.

"And where might you be going?" she asks inquisitively.

"...Out?" I try, but her arms fly apart as she swings her finger through the air.

"Ah ah ah. No, I want to know exactly where you plan to be going."

"Mum," I groan, sagging my shoulders, "I'm just going for a ride on Gail."

"Mmhm, you've been doing a lot of those, haven't you?" she raises her eyebrows in amusement, "I'm a tad bit curious as to where you've been off and riding that mare."

"I don't feel very trusted here, mum. I'm nineteen, not ten."

"Nineteen or not, you're my daughter not my dog and I'll know where you've been."
She then refolds her arms and backs into the armchair, huffing herself down with a I'm-not-moving-until-we've-talked-and-neither-are-you nod.

"Please, sit," she motions to a table chair, "Talk."

It's then that I blush. How am I to tell her where I've been? Yes, riding Gail is what consumes much of my time, but meadows and forests aren't the quality locations.
What will she think? Will she be against it? Will she forbid me of seeing him again?

Yes, I may have taken him up on his kind offer to visit him sometime, and continued to do so, but three times is hardly enough for a scolding. And I am nineteen.

"Well?" she urges impatiently.

I sigh. "I met a man. And...and I've been visiting him the past few days."

Her expression changes from urgent and curiously curious, to shock and disbelief. Her eyebrows almost shoot right off her forehead, and I can tell she's fumbling with the truth.

"You've met a man? Katherine..."

Shoulders slumped, it's plan to see she's completely stumped.

"He's quiet nice mum, and handsome and gentlemanly and all. I know you'd love him, he-"

"Katherine, it's not at all that I'm upset with you!" she exclaims, "I'm happy for you! But, why did you feel that you had to hide it from me? I'm your mum, not your step-mother, and, dear, if you had told me I would've been just as happy to let you ride off again!"

"I thought you'd...disapprove," I admit, and somewhat embarrassedly.

"You're nineteen, Katherine," she laughs, "I'm not that blind, yet anyways. I'm proud my daughter has found a man worthy of her love."

I smile thankfully. "Thank you, mum. I only thought you wouldn't have wanted to let go. I didn't want to hurt you yet."

A strong smile strains to keep itself stretched across her cheeks, but my comment struck a weak spot in her foundation. Suddenly, her expression caves and her happy eyes fall.

"No mum ever wants to let go. But that doesn't mean she has to keep her children locked up and away from the world." A loose tear escapes her eyelid, "I love too much to do that." I force a smile for her, but she quickly wipes her tears and straightens up, "But I'm happier to see you go than to see you dreamin' your days away!"