"Hmmm.... Not sure I could do that," Obi mused.
"I hope you never can. It was a disgusting display."
"It's hard to get women frothy, when you wear a priest's collar," he chuckled.
"Good. Wear it all the time."
"I might want to froth up a woman, Mother."
Giving a disapproving sniff, she poured the coffee. Eagle came back, helping himself, smiling.
"Sarah sends her love. She's really excited about meeting you both. So am I. I think you're going to like her a lot."
"They will," Obi stated with confidence. "If you all don't mind. I'd like a nap." His muscles screamed in protest, as he struggled to rise.
Eagle hopped up, helping him stand. "I've got him. Come on, gimpy."
"Isn't that rather unsympathetic?" their mother asked.
"Calling him gimpy? Nah. He knows it's said with love."
"If I felt better, I'd deck you," Obi said with a laugh.
Obi settled in the bed, a light throw over him, the drapes drawn. Eagle turned on the ceiling fan.
"I'll wake you when it's time to get ready to go."
"'K. Thanks...."
Smiling, Eagle shut the door quietly. His mother was on the phone when he got downstairs. It took a moment to realize it was his. She was talking animatedly to someone.
"Here he is, dear. So lovely to hear your voice." She handed the phone to her son. "Sarah."
"You answered my phone?" he took it from her, frowning.
"It rang and rang. You know I can't stand that."
"Eagle?" came Sarah's slightly tinny voice from the phone.
"Hi. You talked to my mom? Why didn't you just leave a message?"
"It said your mailbox was full. Besides, how's it a big deal? She's really nice."
"She is. Why did you call?" he tried to keep the irritation from his voice, but failed.
"Get all snippy. Sheesh! I wanted to tell you what to bring tonight. I told your mom instead."
"That wasn't the way I wanted you to meet."
"Don't be silly. We'll meet face to face soon enough. How's Obi?"
"He's doing okay. Tired. He's sleeping right now."
"Good. Wynter suggested having dinner over there."
"What did Mom say to that suggestion?"
"I didn't have a chance to ask her, because Wynter suggested it ten seconds ago. Shall I ask her?"
"I will. One second. Mom, Wynter and Sarah want to know if they should bring dinner over?"
"I think that's a lovely idea. It would probably be easier for your brother."
"She said that's a good idea."
"Good. We'll be there about six-thirty."
"We'll be here."
She giggled. "Well, if you weren't, it would be silly to come over."
"Yeah, it would. See you soon."
"You bet! Bye!"
"Bye." He hung up, looking and feeling rather grumpy.
His mother eyed him, squinting a little. "Why are you so unhappy? I talked to your girlfriend, is that a crime?"
"No, of course not. I just hoped you'd meet face to face first."
"You never even cared if I met the other ones."
"Sarah's different."
"I get that, darling. But really? You're acting like someone stole your lollipop."
Eagle chuckled, nodding. "Yeah. I am. Sorry. They'll be here at six-thirty."
"Excellent. Help me clean up."
"Mom, the house is spotless."
"Do what I tell you. I need to mop the floor, move the table for me."
"Yes, ma'am." He knew better than to argue with his mother. Doing what she said was far easier, and smarter than arguing. That was a no-win situation, which would involve his father.
They worked nearly an hour on the kitchen floor. When all the furniture was back in place, his mother enlisted his help, as well as his father's, in prepping salad fixings. That accomplished, she set about making dessert. They got thrown out of the kitchen for that process, which pleased them both.
Obi slept fitfully, unable to find an entirely comfortable position. He couldn't roll on his side, or lie on his belly, because of his shoulder. Sir had told him he had to wear the sling for at least a week, and he was already sick of it. He'd have cheated on it, but there had always been someone around to watch him. He wasn't going to overdo, he just wanted his hand free. It drove him crazy having to eat and drink with his right hand. Not that he couldn't. At some point in his life, he must have eaten with his right, but fairly early on, he'd switched. He did a lot of things as a lefty, but wrote with his right. He attributed that to his overbearing first grade teacher. He'd gone in ambidextrous, and come out right handed—something he'd never understood.
After about an hour and a half, he got up and went to the bathroom. His image in the bathroom mirror was somewhat off-putting. He could see why his family were pampering him so much.
"That explains the headache," he mumbled. Taking a couple Tylenol, he decided to go downstairs.
His father and brother were nowhere to be seen. He could hear his mother in the kitchen. She had music playing, so he wandered in. She was dancing and singing to Paper Doll by John Mayer. She spun around, seeing him for the first time. Laughing, she turned the music down.
"I wasn't expecting you to be up so soon."
©Dellani Oakes 2023
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