Tall, Dark, and Anxious (An Adam Driver fanfic)

16:

A short, plump woman, comes waddling into the living room. My mom may not be conventionally attractive, but I've always thought she was beautiful; orange unruly curls stick out from her messy ponytail, hanging over her forehead. I've always admired her silky curls, I wasn't graced with those. Her face is round, striking blue eyes. Freckles cover her whole body. The only genes I got from her are my lips and nose; unfortunately, I look a lot like my dad.

"LeeLee!" she squeals, extending her arms towards me.

"Hi, mama."

We hug.

"You didn't say you were gonna stop by," she starts, scurrying to the kitchen. "You hungry? I could cook us up some biscuits and grits."

"I'm not hungry."

She looks at me with a concerned expression.

"A girl's gotta eat, Hailey," she warns.

"Ileana and I got into a fight last night, mama."

"Oooh."

She sits down on her plush, blue couch. I sit down in the chair across from her that's also blue, but not a matching shade. Her old floral rug lays between us.

"What happened?" she asks.

I tell her the whole story.

"Who the hell is Adam?"

I forgot that I never told her about him. I explain to her who he is and how we met.

"You're out here mingling with celebrities? You take after your mama."

"Mama, do I have to hear this story again?" I whine.

"I had a fling with Kid Rock when I was around your age."

"I know, mama. You said you saw him for the first time and started sweatin' like a whore in church."

Mama tells this story a lot, but I think it was just a fever dream, honestly, or it was a doppelganger. She always seemed to fall hard for men who had been beaten with the ugly stick.

"Where's he from?"

"He lives in New York right now," I say.

"Ah..."

"It's not like that, mama."

"New Yorkers are rude and selfish."

"He's not like that. He's sweet, caring, really smart, talented."

"Or so he seems. You barely know him! Why can't you just date a man here in Alabama? We don't have no snobs."

"Yeah, just white supremacists."

There's a pause.

"Alright, you got me there."

"We're not even dating," I clarify.

"Not yet. Somethin's comin'. And I believe she and Illy will work things out."

"Maybe," I mumble.

"You want some tea? I got a hankerin' for some right 'bout now."

"Okay."

Being around mama is always therapeutic. I went to college out of state, so I lost touch with my southern roots for a while. It's good to be back. As much as Alabama has its flaws, it's still my home.

I'm pulling into my driveway, it's about five now. I see that Ileana's car isn't here. I scuffle through the doorway, shaking off the outside chill. I notice a note on the door.

"Out with Ian, be back later."