Adeen
"Oh my sweet boy, look at you!"
I smile at the plump, chocolate colored woman sitting in her favorite spot, right outside the house amongst her garden.
I haven't seen my mother in a few months, I feel terrible for it. I normally try to visit every week, but with everything going on, the days just slipped by.
She starts to get up out of her seat, but I get to her before she can.
"You don't have to get up momma," I give her a one armed embrace and she gives me kisses all over my face.
"Oh my handsome son, how are you?" She gushes.
I sit next to her on the bench and wind an arm around her.
"I'm doing alright, how about you, what've you been doing besides watching these birds?"
A couple fly by just as I say that.
She giggles, "just that, I can't tend my garden like I want, so I sit right here and watch it grow."
I look at the growing flowers and vinery. Her garden looks like it's flourishing, I turn to her.
"It looks like it's doing great."
She smiles, "that boy, Malcolm from down the road has been helping me out."
My brows knit together, "Malcolm? Momma you know you could've called me to help with your garden."
She lightly smacks my leg, "I know you're busy, I'm not going to call you for every little thing."
My heart drops and I feel bad, like I'm neglecting her.
"From now on, you call me instead of some little knucklehead from down the road."
She scoffs and starts to get up again, "now stop being an ass," she chastises. "That boy is a sweet kid, he helps with my yard, I help him save for his car."
"Save how?" I ask.
She gives me a look that tells me to shut up before she pops me in the mouth.
"I pay him fifty dollars for a day's work. Anything else Adeen Malachi Hutchinson?"
I can't help but chuckle at my mother and she swats a hand over my head.
"What a fiesty little woman you are," I say.
"Oh hush up," she grumbles sitting on the edge of her seat now.
Still laughing I stand in front of my mom and help her to her feet. Even though wanting to appear bitter, she holds my hand tight in her own and leads me inside.
"Joann still coming by on Saturdays?" I ask.
Joann's the maid I hired to keep the place up weekly. I know my mom gets winded more these days, though she doesn't like to admit it.
"Yes that girl still comes over, messing with my things- I told her I don't like the way she dusts because it only hangs in the air then recollects somewhere else. I said go ahead, skip the dusting from now on, I'll do it, and I still catch her dusting, wasting twenty minutes!"
I shake my head, "she's not going to just not do her job because you're being grumpy. If you want her to dust differently, you have to show her how you want it done."
She continues fussing all while setting up her kettle for tea. Watching my mom move around the kitchen reminds of times when I was younger. I'd sit in this very spot just in awe as she worked her culinary magic.
Once upon a time, young Diane Hutchinson was a professional personal chef. I've heard stories of her cooking for touring musicians or stars coming through our area like Luther Van Dross, Chaka Khan, the Hall & Oates duo, Richord Pryor, to name a few. I remember ogling at polaroids she kept in an album and being blown away like, that's my mom with Jim Carrey, I just saw him on TV last night.
Being in the kitchen with her at home, I learned more than I know what to do with. I'd just love seeing the way she'd light up in the kitchen. I know for a fact she's where I got my love for food.
"Open this for me huh?"
My mother hands me a jar of clarified butter, I snap the top off and hand it back.
"What you about to whip up?" I ask.
"You like my pot pie yeah?"
"You know I do momma, not even a question."
She sets up her bowls and pulls out a carton of eggs.
"Thought so," she says. "So how's business going for you? What do you sell again, computer parts?"
"Yeah that I do, um business is going well, it's been steady for the last year been trying to keep up with the new developments and pieces."
"Ooh, I'm glad to hear it. How is Tiana?"
My shoulders sink, thankfully she keeps her eyes on the mix of dough she's creating.
I don't plan on telling her about Tiana's incident or that she's in rehab.
"She's doing alright, nothing really new."
My mother hums, "hm. Why don't you call her over for dinner tonight?"
"Oh, uh she's actually down south visiting family right now."
"Oh!" She turns to me, "you're all alone in that big house? Honey you stay with me tonight, huh?"
I smile at her, "no I'm not completely alone, Tiana's sister is actually living with us right now, so."
"Sister? I didn't know Tiana had a sister, when did she move in with you?"
I shrug, "few months ago I suppose."
"How old is she?"
Oh boy the prying never ends.
"Eighteen."
"Eighteen? Is the poor girl still in high school? Invite her over here now so she can have a home cooked meal."
"That's not necessary momma, she's good, I've been cooking."
"Son I know you're an excellent cook, you take after me, but I also know you're always running like a chicken with his head cutoff barely making time to sleep. Please son, I want you here for dinner, invite her over so that she feels welcome. I know how you get in your head and probably end up ignoring the girl."
I sigh, "if it'll stop you from making me feel bad, fine I'll invite her over."
She clears her throat in response.
●●●
The sun is setting, a soft glow of orange covers the sky as I wait at the end of the pathway for Malina to pull up. It's not long before the familiar Tesla parks next to me.
Malina gets out wearing a dark green sweater dress. Before we get in front of my mother, I rush to Malina, press her up against the car and kiss her. I can tell she wasn't expecting it, but she relaxes in moments and kisses me back.
"Thank you for coming," I say softly. "My mother insisted."
She laughs nervously, glances at the house then me.
"I never thought that you would want me to meet your mom."
I place a finger under her chin, "why is that?"
She shrugs looking into my eyes, "just seems like something for I don't know, official, public couples."
I place my lips against her forehead, I hate when she talks like this.
"Stop being silly," I whisper into her hair. "She asked to meet you, she knows who you are, lets just enjoy a night with my mom, alright?"
She nods, taking a breath and looking down.
I take her hand in mine and lead her up the stairs to the porch. Just before I open the door, I place a hand on the small of her back and as we step inside I let her go.
"Bout time you came inside, help me with these plates."
She's standing on a stepstool, plates wobbling in her shaky arms. I rush over and take the dishes from her hands. She's lucky they haven't crashed at her feet, she's so damn stubborn.
I set the plates on the table and turn back to Malina who has hung back to stand near the counter. I wave a hand at her and also step towards her as she comes near me.
"Momma, this is Malina, Tiana's sister."
Malina reaches out a hand and my mom's face lights up.
"Well aren't you a beautiful girl," she scuttles over and the two hug.
Malina blushes, "thank you."
"Adeen, should be ashamed of yourself leaving this sweet pea alone in that big ole house."
"Momma, why do you think I'm so neglectful?" I tease.
"Maybe cause you ain't been here in some months now."
She sees my face fall and puckers her lip at me.
"Oh honey, you know I'm only giving you a hard time. I know you work hard and that you make time for me, don't pay me no mind. Now come on, let's eat ya'll."
We all gather at the table and place slices of pot pie on our plates. My mouth is filled with a hot, creamy vegetable and chicken medley and flaky crust. Just like how grandma would make, recipe now passed down and memorized by my mother. I've bugged her about the exact ingredients for the rue but she always blows over it like she hasn't heard me say a thing.
"Mm, this is really, really good Ms.Hutchinson," says Malina with a hand over her mouth.
I see my mother smile wide, "thank you sweetheart."
I chime in, though I know she'll not pay me any mind. With Malina in the room, I can expect that... She's intoxicating.
"It is really good momma, sure would like that recipe any day now."
"Yeah, and I'd like some grand babies any day now."
My eyes enlarge and I can't help but glance at Malina who looks incredibly uncomfortable.
"So," my mother says. "How come you didn't go with your sista to visit your family?"
I take a relaxed breath grateful that she doesn't continue on the subject of children, but I still am on edge from the mention of Tiana.
Malina gives her a polite smile, "I have finals this week so I wasn't able to go," she shrugs.
"That's too bad. Well what grade you in?"
"Twelth, graduating in like two weeks."
"Oh!" Exclaims my mother. "Congratulations, plans for college?"
The look that crosses Malina's face makes me think college never crossed her mind.
She blushes, "I uh, I don't know, so far just plan on working for a little while."
"Well that's okay, don't rush into somethin' without a plan," says my mom.
Malina responds with a nod and a small smile. We continue eating, I keep annoying my mother and once we're all done, I get up to clear the table.
"Oh I forgot to take my insulin," exclaims my mom. "I'll be back you two, let me go do that now."
"Alright momma," I say, bring the dishes to the sink and open the dishwasher.
Malina makes her way over to me and starts putting dishes in. I look over at her and can't help but smile.
"She likes you," I say.
She looks at me, an eyebrow arched, "your mom?"
I nod as I place pieces of pot pie in a plastic container, definitely taking some of this home.
"Mhm, better than Tiana it seems like."
She rolls her eyes and puts another plate in, "right," she says sarcastically.
"I'm serious. Tiana... She made a real ass of herself in front of my mom. She claims she was nervous and just had a glass of wine to calm herself down, but she was," I shake my head thinking of the incident. "She was hammered and all over the place. My mom never said anything, but I could see she was pissed."
She looks at me, eyebrows risen, "damn."
I nod and sigh, "yeah... yeah."
We spend the rest of the time cleaning in silence, thinking. When my mom comes back downstairs she goes up to Malina with a photo album.
"Look at my baby boy," she gushes.
"Oh my goodness!" Exclaims Malina.
"That's when he was still sweet."
"Oh momma you know I'm still as sweet as can be," I say, starting the dishwasher.
I walk up and stand next to them. The picture they're talking about is of me in the bathtub at maybe one or two years old.
"Oh man look at that handsome guy," I joke.
"Too cute," muses Malina.
My mom flips the page and I see a picture of my father. It was taken before I was born, he was eighteen and just enlisted in the military.
"Is this you Adeen?" Asks Malina.
My mother takes a breath, "this is Adeen's father, funny how similar they look... Augistin was born and raised in Ireland until his father moved them here to the US. Augistin's dad, Channe, was a highly ranked general in the Irish military and when Augistin turned fifteen they moved here. Channe was under order to basically meet with those also in command and come up with agreements and contracts on things obviously not shared with me.
Augistin really was molded to join the military and because he couldn't join Ireland's forces he made sure to do his very best in US's... He was a hard and very serious man, but something just lit up in him when he'd visit me at the diner I managed.
I'll never forget the first time we met. I watched him walk in with all his military buddies, they were all brooding and looking like big bullies. Both my waitresses for the night were terrified to approach them, so I make my way over and take their orders of coffee, burgers and such. When I brought him his coffee I asked if he wanted any creamer and he replied, 'no I like mine dark.' And without even thinking I asked, 'oh I'm sure that's not the only thing you like dark,' and I gasped, was ready to profusely apologize and possibly lose my job. The look on his face, he just looked at me, shocked. Then all at once the table erupts in laughter and the smile on Augustin's face nearly killed me. From then on he'd drop by maybe every week sometimes more than once and we'd just talk and talk and laugh." She sighs, "you're father used to be a sweet man."
The sadness on my mother's face pulls at my heart. I guess my father was a sweet man but that must have been long before I was born. They got married after five years of seeing each other and I guess he thought life would take him in any direction but fatherhood. I was born a year later and all I remember since maybe six or seven years old is that I never thought that he liked me... Hm, I suppose I never found out if he did, though I did all I could to ensure that he would. I even joined the military thinking it would impress him and not even a month enlisted he passed away.
She flips the pages in the album, telling stories about each picture. After a while my mother started to yawn here and there and wanted to go to bed.
"I love you so much," she squeezes me tight as do I.
"I love you too mom, I'll do my best to see you more often."
She pats me on the back, "don't be hard on yourself if you can't honey."
Malina and her hug, "I'm so glad to have met you, I hope you finish strong on your finals."
"Thank you," Malina replies. "It was really nice meeting you, thank you for dinner."
I kiss my mother on the cheek and she stands in her doorway until we get in our cars and drive off, following the other home.