This is the twelfth part in a series, so if you have not already done so, you might want to read Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, and Part XI before continuing.
We got off the train at St. Louis and I looked around for my mom’s car. I didn’t recognize it so much as I recognized the woman jumping up and down beside it, waving one arm like a maniac. I seriously considered turning around and finding the next train headed back to campus before Owen realized I was related to this crazy woman. And to think she had always been the one to tell me how important it was to play it cool!
“Keira!” She screamed before I had a chance to turn around.
“I’m guessing that’s your mom?” Owen asked it like a question, but of course it wasn’t really a question.
There could be no doubt that she was screaming and waving at me.
“She’s not normally like this,” I said. “She must be excited about the wedding.”
“Very excited.”
There wasn’t time to respond, because by that point my mom had rushed over to us, completely abandoning her double-parked car. First, she gave me a big hug and said, “Welcome home, sweetie.”
“Hi, Mom,” I said, taken aback by how good it felt to hug her again.
Then she turned to Owen, extending a hand as she said, “You must be Owen.”
“I am indeed,” he said, shaking her hand. Then he laughed sheepishly as he said, “I’m afraid Keira hasn’t told me your maiden name or your new married name.”
“Oh, call me Gemma,” she said, waving away his awkwardness with an exaggerated swoop of one hand.
“You’re old enough for us to treat each other like fellow adults.” As she said that, she stepped back, but kept a hand on his considerable bicep. “My goodness, look at you. How old are you?” I know she wasn’t trying to be insulting, but there was a note of incredulity in her voice.
“Twenty.”
“So, you’re not even old enough to drink, yet? That can’t be right.”
“Just 9 months to go, but who’s counting?”
“Well, you can drink at our wedding. It’s going to be very casual, and we have a very liberal approach to these things.”
“I appreciate it. I mean, I have to toast the happy couple.”
My mom giggled — Giggled! I had never heard her giggle before — then she grabbed our bags and led us to the car.
To be continued…