Where the Kissing Never Stops by Ron Koertge

Author:Ron Koertge [Koertge, Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781406350296
Publisher: Walker Books
Published: 2013-01-16T16:00:00+00:00

If she’d had an accident, wouldn’t the police call? What if she was stranded somewhere in that stupid old car with 129,000 miles on it? What if she’d gone out with someone from the club and he turned out to be a maniac?

I started to dial the police, then hung up. Probably there was a completely rational explanation. Probably she’d just had to work overtime. Probably the whole menagerie was sick again, not to mention the band and the bouncer.

But why hadn’t she called? Why hadn’t she at least called? Wasn’t I worth one rollover minute?

It was four-thirty when I heard the car coast into the garage. I was woozy with anxiety and calories. I’d finished a two-hour binge by trying to defrost a frozen pie with hot water. Finally I just gave up and ate; it tasted like a plate with apples painted on it.

“I guess,” she said, spotting me at the table, “that I hoped you’d be asleep.”

“Where were you?” My throat was frozen from the pie and I could feel the cold words.

“Out with a guy.” She put her bag down on the sink and looked in the refrigerator. “Pretty bare in here. I feel like Old Mother Hubbard.”

“I’ll bet Mother Hubbard never stayed out all night.”

“Probably not,” she said with a small sigh. Then she turned to me. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I was worried.” I was also determined not to cry.

She patted my shoulder, then rubbed it and frowned like she’d found a dirty word written there. “I know.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“I should have called. I meant to, and then it was midnight and I didn’t want to wake you. I called Millie.”

“Next door?”

“She never goes to bed before twelve. She said everything looked peaceful and quiet over here.”

“I woke up a couple of hours ago. God, Mom. I didn’t know what to think.” I could feel my face scrunching up; some man I’d just become.

She leaned and put her cool cheek against my forehead.

“I know, honey. If I do it again, I’ll call you. Earlier. Every hour on the hour if you want.”

I reached for the lapels of her red jacket and hung on.

“Are you going to do it again?”

“I might. I don’t know. But not like this, I promise.”

She leaned to kiss me. She smelled like the outdoors, like night. “Are you mad?”

I shook my head. “Not much, not anymore.”

“I need a glass of wine. Will you sit with me? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

I nodded, not letting go of her, though.

She moved the carton with MOM’S PIES written on it. As she poured a glass of red wine she asked, “What’d you do, suck a frozen pie?”

“Something like that.”

“Lord, Walker.” She sounded more amazed than miffed. Then I felt her appraise me. “Do you want some wine? We could have a drink together. First time for everything, as they say.”

“I don’t know about pie and chili and cookies and wine.”

“I see your point.” She sat down with a whoosh. “Can I put my feet on your knees?” She looked around curiously.

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