It's
coincidence that Michael Reuben ended up in Cheyenne, Wyoming. He had
car trouble on his way to Alaska, and decided to stay. It's not
coincidence that he hit the road as soon as he could, in order to get
away from his mother. What can you say about Ma? She's controlling,
plays favorites with her kids and is the Queen of the Guilt Trip—and
she's on her way from New York City to visit. She's bringing a man
with her, and his daughter, Sarena. Knowing how difficult his mother
is to travel with, Mike conspires with Sarena to make it an easier
trip.
"Am
I on speaker?"
"No."
Sarena sounded kind of surprised.
I
lowered my voice to nearly a whisper. "Is she making you
completely insane yet?"
"You
can talk a little louder. We've stopped again. She's in the
bathroom."
"So?"
"Yeah,
somewhat. Poor Daddy. She doesn't like the interstate much."
"Tip
for future reference, Ma doesn't like much about road trips. Whose
idea was this fiasco?"
"That
I don't know," she said evasively.
"I'm
sure he's regretting it already."
Sarena
giggled, dropping her voice. I heard the car door open and shut. "You
can believe that! I think he regretted it before we even got out of
the City. I thought her backseat driving was going to make the poor
man blow a gasket."
"Get
her talking about her soap operas. It will distract her for awhile.
It might make you crazy, but it will keep her off your dad's case and
give him a break. When you stop in town, and you will, pick up some
gossip rags and celebrity magazines. You'll have a little peace.
Also, slip her some Dramamine or Benadryl."
Sarena
laughed loudly and I immediately liked this woman. If she could laugh
at my devious plans to keep my mother subdued, she was my kind of
woman.
"You're
evil, Mike. I knew I'd like you. I wish we'd talked to you about this
before."
"I
can share these tidbits with you because you're not the man dating my
mother. Could you imagine me telling him this?"
"Daddy
would blow a gasket, for sure. Anymore tips?"
"Got
any soft music? Play something quiet, she'll fall asleep. She likes
Patsy Cline and stuff like that."
"I'll
see what Dad's got in the way of CD's. He's only got a few. So, what
kind of music to you like, Michael?"
"Depends
on my mood. I'm more of a heavy metal guy, but I'll listen to just
about anything if I'm in the mood."
"And
if your mood is frisky?"
"Now
you make me sound like a puppy. I promise, I'm all grown up and potty
trained."
"You're
evading my question."
"It's
a fairly personal question. Maybe I'm shy."
"You?
I venture to say there's not a shy bone in your body."
"Not
so much. I'd invite you to find out, but that's maybe not the most
polite thing to say to a woman I never met, huh?"
"One
thing you'll learn about me, Mike. I'm not awfully shy either. I've
seen your picture," she left that statement hanging.
"Which
one?"
"The
one at your brother's wedding."
I
was best man under protest. I looked pretty damn good in the tux
though. She must have thought so too.
"I
didn't even know you existed until my mother called me last week. I'm
not up to speed on this whole thing."
"That's
okay. You look like a man who can keep up."
"I
try not to disappoint."
"Cheese
it," she whispered huskily, sounding like Bugsy Malone. "Your
Ma's coming."
"Then
I'd better say goodbye. Remember what I told you."
"Thanks,
Mike. I'm looking forward to meeting you in person."
"Me
too. Call me if you need anymore tips."
"Will
do. Probably at the next rest stop."
©
2017 Dellani Oakes
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