The Lies That Bind

23: The Golden Bird

When Cooper returned home for the holidays that year, he found Greenwitch to be in much the same way as he'd left it. Small. Quiet. 

And as always, full to bursting with gossip mongers.

He'd no sooner stepped over the threshold of the old Daniels' apartment when his mom descended upon him, a whirlwind of blonde hair and hugs and an almost disturbing concern for the state of his laundry—Do you even bother with fabric softener? When's the last time you washed your sheets?—and generally causing a fuss because he hadn't visited in ages, you don't need an excuse to come home, you know.

"Mom," he said, exasperated. He dropped his bags by the front door. "I had finals."

"A likely story." Her eyes sparkled as she looked him over. "What's this I hear about you and Calla Parker?"

Face aflame, Cooper beelined for the kitchen, dodging her curious stare. "Mom."

"Well, is it true?" She followed after him, not to be denied.

"Where did you even hear that?" he demanded, opening the cabinet that usually housed their throwaway cups, as his mom liked to put it. "Where are all the cups?"

She pointed to his left. "Second cabinet, over by the stove. I moved some things around."

"Redecorating already, I see." Cooper pretended to sniff. "It's like I was never even here."

She rolled her eyes and popped him on the butt. "Oh, hush." He jumped away from her, affronted. "How did finals go?"

"I might have to drop out."

"Cooper Cornelius Daniels."

"Joking," he mumbled, busying himself with a glass of water. His mom waited, hands on her hips, persistent as she'd ever been. Finally, he dashed the rest of the water down the sink and said, "Yes, Calla and I are dating now."

She clapped her hands together, gleeful as a school girl. "Well, it's about time you two got around to it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, Cooper," she said, exasperated, and gently tweaked his chin. "I know you couldn't see it, but you've had your eyes on that girl since you two were just these wild, small little things running around outside." She looked to the window for effect, the stretch of city land between their place and Calla's overgrown with dry, brittle grass. 

He opened his mouth to object—his obsession with Calla Parker had been fear, not a schoolyard crush—but then he closed it again. He'd been drawn to Calla even before the unpleasantness with Mr. Kitty...and anyway, it wasn't like he could explain the intricacies of their relationship to his mom. He barely understood it himself.

"You two have been through so much." Her smile turned a little sad, and he hated that more than anything. "A lot more than most people will ever go through in their lifetime, let alone at your age. I'm just glad you two managed to find your way back to each other."

Suddenly he was sixteen years old again and in desperate need of the kind of comfort only a mother could give. So he bent down—she'd gotten smaller, he thought—and wrapped her in a bear hug, her laughter reverberating through his chest as he rocked her back and forth, nearly sweeping her off her feet. "I missed you," he said earnestly.

She squeezed him back. "Missed you more." She tried to swat him on the butt again, but he anticipated the move and quickly maneuvered beyond her reach.

"Mom!" he protested. 

"That's for making me find out about your new girlfriend through the Greenwitch Grapevine." He grimaced as she lifted the same threatening finger she'd used on him for most of his life—like when he left his dirty laundry lying around on his floor, or when he'd forgotten to do the dishes and left it up to her after a long day at work. "Pick up the phone and call your mother. How else am I supposed to know you're not dead in a ditch somewhere?"