Page 100 of Run
Whistling, I knock at the same time that I open the front door and walk inside. “Mom? It’s me.”
She comes barreling down the stairs that stop right in front of the door. “Honey!” Arms stretched wide, Mom goes up on tippy toes as I bend down to hug her. She pats my back a few times. “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”
Mom is one of those women that doesn’t seem to age. She has a few gray hairs streaked through her shiny brown locks, and if you look closely enough you can see the wrinkles forming at thecorners of her eyes and mouth, but otherwise she looks the same as she did when I was a kid.
“I thought I’d take you to lunch.” We pull away from each other, but she keeps her arms on my biceps, peering up at me. “I’m just going to mow your lawn first. And then I’ll trim that bush out front since it’s creeping into the sidewalk. And … What? Why are you staring at me?”
Mom tilts her head to the side, her eyebrows pulled together. “You look different.” She eyes me up and down and I shrug away from her, but not before I feel a smile tugging at my lips.
“No way! Get back here.” She trails behind me as I make my way through the kitchen and out the back door, toward the little shed she has in her small, fenced-in backyard. “Don’t avoid me, Ethan.” I can hear the smile in her voice as she tries to keep up with me.
“This will be the last time I have to mow for the season.” I avoid looking at her as I work the lock. “And then I’ll move the snowblower to the front of the shed so it’s easier to access for winter.”
I open the door and start to pull out the small push mower, making my way down the little ramp and turning around—to find my mom standing there, arms crossed, glaring at me. Reaching for the cord to pull, to bring the mower to life, Mom slaps my hand away hard.
“Ouch, Mom! What the hell?”
“Don’t youwhat the hell, Momme. Who is she?”
“Who’s who?” I attempt to pull the cord again, but this time she smacks me on the back of the head. “Oww! When did you get so violent?”
“When you started trying to hide things from me. Now, out with it. Who’s the girl?”
“What makes you think there’s a girl?”
“Since you came walking in that door”—Mom points back toward the house—“whistling with that shit-eating grin that you can’t seem to wipe off your face. And you look, I dunno, like you’re seventeen again.”
I let my smile finally take over and stuff my hands in the pockets of my jacket, abandoning the lawn mower for now. “Mom, you’re not going to believe me.”
I look over to her as I trail off, and she cocks her head to the side. “Try me.”
I gesture to the picnic table, and we walk over and sit side-by-side. Mom zips her sweatshirt up and leans her elbows back on the table. “So …” She nudges my shoulder with hers. “What’s her name?”
I take a breath. “Ari.”
“Oh,” Mom pulls her head back a little. “That’s kind of a coincidence, huh?”
I shake my head as I make eye contact with her. “No, Mom. It’s not.”
She looks confused, and then I watch as it sinks in. “Oh.” She sits forward, wiping her palms on her thighs. “I wondered if you would run into her around the city. Although I wasn’t even sure she still lived around here.” Mom looks uncomfortable but continues. “How did you guys reconnect?”
I let out a laugh. “Actually, Fonz and Ari’s friend set us up. It’s a long and sordid story, but the short of it is Fonz has been in touch with Ari all along. And she has this friend she met when she was in foster care, Sophie, and the two of them knew our story and engineered a meetup for us.”
Mom nods as she swallows. “I see. And is she well?”
“Yeah, Mom. She’s really good.” I think it over. “Well, actually, she had an accident a little while back, and she’s got to do some regular physical therapy and stuff, but she’s still as strong as shit.”
My mom’s eyes rove my face, then her brows furrow. “You said she was in foster care? How long was that for?”
“It wasn’t for long. A few months, maybe?”
Mom pulls her head back in surprise, eyebrows raised. “Well, where did she go after that?”
“She went back home.”
“Back home? Back to that animal?”
“I know. It’s hard to believe.”
