Dylan found street parking facing downhill in front of a gray classic doorman art deco building on Powell Street. The building was in front of the cable car tracks, and Skye watched as the famed cable car rumbled past them, carrying tourists on it's way up the hill to their next destination. Dylan's hand touched the small of Skye's back as he led her up the main entrance. The front entrance led to a lobby with marble floors and mirrors all along the walls. He escorted her up to his parents' condominium unit door and knocked using the gold plated knocker. They waited in silence for someone to open the door. Skye felt like a cat got her tongue. She was still nervous about meeting Dylan's parents. Dylan regarded her and ruffled her hair a bit, trying to ease the tension the woman next to him felt. It worked because her face broke into a grin as she swatted his hand away. He smoothed her hair on her head before putting an arm around her shoulders. A petite older woman, even shorter than Skye's 5'4" frame opened the door for them. She looked elegant, her hair in a chignon, her camel colored cashmere sweater set looked luxurious, as did the tweed plaid pants she paired her sweater with. Her suede pointy toed pumps caused Skye envy; she'd always fancied herself somewhat of a shoe connoisseur.
"Hi, Mom," Dylan greeted the woman behind the door.
"Hello, my handsome son," the older woman greeted Dylan by kissing him on the cheek and enveloping him in a bear hug. "Come in, come in."
"Mom, this is my friend Skye," Dylan placed a hand on the small of Skye's back as he pushed her a little bit forward towards his mother.
"Hello, Mrs. O'Connell. You have an absolutely stunning home," Skye remarked truthfully. She'd only seen what can be seen from the main entrance so far, but what she had seen was gorgeous. She let her gaze wander past Dylan's mother and beautifully proportioned rooms with deep crown and picture moldings, wide doorways framed by Doric columns and rounded window bays greeted her line of sight.
"Please, call me Mary. And why don't I take you on a little tour before we sit down for dinner? My husband is running a little late, he does send his apologies," Mary took hold of the younger woman's hand. "Here, why don't you get more comfortable and take your coat and scarf off?" Skye did as she was told, hanging her things on the strap of her cross body bag that slung over her shoulder, but Mary took them all from her and handed them to her son. "Dylan, why don’t you be a doll and please hang these in the hallway closet. We'll just be walking around," Mary said good naturedly.
He took Skye’s things from his mother’s hold and did as he was asked. Skye was in awe of every room Mary showed her, but tried her best to suppress herself. She didn’t want to embarrass herself in any way, especially not in front of Mary. Every room they toured was immaculate and amazingly interior designed. Mary’s taste was impeccable. The furniture in the house was obviously especially designed to the homeowner’s specifications, each piece was so special. Dark leather, plush suede, dark woods, ornate curtains, and Asian inspired art was seen throughout the house. There were four bedrooms: the master bedroom was the only one used as an actual bedroom, two of the other bedrooms were transformed into his and her offices, and the smallest room turned into “closet” for Mary. Mary opened the door to the “closet”, and Skye could not contain the audible gasp that escaped from her lips. One whole wall had a built in cabinet full of shoes in every imaginable style, shapes, and colors. She walked up to the shoes, keeping a safe distance, like they were works of art at a museum. Dylan finally caught up to them and chuckled at Skye’s face; she definitely looked like a kid who hit the jackpot at a candy shop or a toy store.
“Uh oh, someone’s in awe,” Dylan joked.
“Skye, are you a fan of shoes?” Mary walked up to her.
“Yes, definitely. I’m Filipino, so I think we all have a little bit of Imelda Marcos in us Filipino women,” she laughed. “But I definitely do not have a wall of incredible shoes like yours. Wow.”
“I don’t even wear most of those. They’re really just for display.”
“They are all amazing. What a collection!”
“We look like we’re about the same size. What size do you wear?” Mary asked her.
“I’m a size 7.”
“Hmm, why don’t you pick a couple?” Mary suggested.
“What? Oh no, I couldn’t, thank you,” Skye blushed and shook her hands vehemently.
“I insist. Or else I’ll pick them for you. Honestly, I have way too many, and maybe it’s time to make space for a few new ones,” Mary winked at her.
“But…”
“Don’t argue with her, Skye. Just say thank you and pick a couple,” Daniel said to her.
“But…”
“Dylan’s right. Alright, we can come back to this room after dinner, but I insist, Skye,” Mary smiled warmly at her son’s new found friend.
Skye couldn’t do nothing but smile in return as Dylan just shrugged at her.
“No use arguing with her, Skye. She was a lawyer, remember? Even if you think you’re right, she can and will make you believe you were wrong,” he casually slung an arm around her shoulders as they followed his mother out of the room.
“That’s right, my baby boy,” Mary called out to the couple behind her without looking at them.
“I just think it’s unnecessary, Mary. Trust me, I’m grateful for your kind gesture, but I didn’t accept this dinner invitation for free hand outs.”
“And trust me, I didn’t tell Dylan to invite you so I can give you free hand outs,” Mary said and pulled Skye away from Dylan. She looped an arm around the younger woman’s waist. “Dylan has been talking about you nonstop. I thought I needed to see this new friend of his for myself.”
“Oh really? What has my new friend been saying about me?” she twisted her head and stole a glance behind her to the man in quesiton.
“First words were ‘I just met this woman who has a bottomless pit for a stomach. So refreshing!’” Mary laughed.
“You said that?!” she looked at Dylan in horror.
“What? I was impressed! Trust me, your appetite for food is a good thing.”
“Dylan, couldn’t you have said something like, oh, I don’t know, more along the lines of ‘I met the most beautiful chemist today’.”
“Oh isn’t that a little presumptious?” he smirked at her.
Her cheeks felt warm. Why did she say that? She wanted the ground to open up right then and there and swallow her whole! Out of everything to say, why did she have to lose all common sense and have the biggest brain fart known to man?
“Don’t worry, Skye. You are the most beautiful chemist I’ve ever met,” Mary winked at her.
“Mary, will you tell me where the wash room is again?”
“Sure. There’s one right here to your right.”
Skye mumbled a thank you and went inside. She didn’t really need to use it, she just needed to get away from the mother and son after she just made a fool out of herself.
“Skye, It’s okay. This is the new you, remember? Braver. Unapologetic. Is not afraid to speak her mind,” Skye stared at herself in the mirror, giving herself a pep talk. “No use in fretting about it now; what’s done is done. Just redeem yourself, okay? Just act normal. Don’t be so obvious that you have a huge crush on Dylan. Relax. You’re a professional. Act like one!” she still silently berated herself.
She splashed some cold water on her face and carefully blotted it with toilet paper. She didn’t want to ruin her make up after all; it took her a long time to perfect her face for this occasion. She took a deep, calming breath and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She can do this.
While she was in the wash room, Mary and Dylan looked at his framed baby photos in the study room. Mary stared at her son and couldn’t contain the smile that formed on her face. Dylan looked at his mother and furrowed his eyebrows, wondering what his mother’s smile was all about.
“What? That smile looks like it belongs to a cat who ate a canary,” he cautiously smiled at her.
“I like her.”
“Huh?”
“Skye.”
“Yeah, she’s great, right?”
“Better than the last girlfriend you brought home. A lot better,” Mary noted.
“Mom, no, Skye’s just a friend,” he was quick to clarify.
“Well, you need to change that. She’s cute and quirky…intelligent, polite…”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what? Don’t be blind, Dylan,” his mother warned. “I know you’re interested in her because you brought her home. And you’ve known her, what? Three days?”
Dylan just nodded. He was about to say something when Skye stepped out the wash room and rounded her way into the study. She just looked awkwardly at mother and son, trying to gauge if she walked in on a very private talk when they heard a loud voice call from the foyer.
“Honey, I’m home!”