Just For You (14 page)

Sarah and Bobby beamed like the proud parents they were.

"Thank you," Bobby said. "They're the best thing to ever happen to us. Do you have any children?"

Imogen took her glass of water and drank the entire thing in one sip. Wiping her mouth, she shook her head. "No, no. Someday. Not right now."

"They truly are a blessing," Sarah said. Sylvia nodded, taking the time to look at each of her three sons.

"When is the next dance recital, Sarah?" Sylvia's heart nearly jumped out of her chest for Cameron's question. He was actually making an effort to be sociable, and that was just what she'd hoped from his visit. The change in him was almost like someone turned on a light switch.

"It's next Saturday, at five."

"I don't think I have work that day," Cameron pushed hair from his eyes. "Maybe I can make it down in time."

"They'd love that."

Dinner conversation continued until the topics of school, work, and politics were out of the way. Next on the list?

Cameron was in the middle of swallowing a spoonful of soup when his mother was out with it.

"So, Imogen. Is my son a good lover?" She gestured with her finger toward Cameron.

Cameron groaned, dropping his spoon into his soup bowl. There was a banging as he set his elbow on the table and hid his face in his open palm. "Oh, God."

Every single date he'd ever had came rushing back to him, like some time-continuum from hell. He was afraid it would come to this, but somehow, even for all his twenty six years of experience of being his mother's son, didn't see it coming. He didn't know why he would have thought this time would have been any different, any more special.

Imogen's cheeks reddened and she licked her lips. The others went on eating just as easily as if Sylvia had brought up the weather.

"Mom." It was the only word Cameron could get out at the moment.

"What? You act as if sex isn't a natural part of life."

"That doesn't mean it needs to be brought up at the dinner table."

George was laughing quietly to himself as he sipped his wine.

"I'm sorry," Sylvia turned toward Imogen. "You're not offended, are you? I'm not being too forward?"

Imogen shook her head.

"Jesus, you talk about this all day and now you have to bring it up with a guest in your house. It's not normal to discuss this all day, every day." He turned toward his father. "Don't you get sick of hearing about this? Work stays at the office for a reason."

George made a face that said he rather didn't mind.

"Okay, wrong person to ask." Cameron's entire body trembled with disgust.

"It's normal to me," Sylvia countered. "Honestly, what is the big deal? We're all adults here. There's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not stupid or naïve enough to think that you haven't had any sort of relations by now. You should be lucky to have a mom who's so understanding."

"Mom!" Cameron widened his eyes. "Change the subject. Now."

Sylvia was silently waiting for a reply from Imogen.

"No, ma'am." She pushed around a potato in her broth. "Cameron and I… we're not dating."

"I know. Who said you had to be dating to enjoy each other?"

Imogen held her tongue. She almost let it up that she'd suggested the subject to Cameron once before, not seriously, of course. But it was better left unsaid.

"For the love of Christ. We are not sleeping together. Can we please, for my own mental sanity, discuss something else that does not in any way include sex, relationships, or my own life."

Sylvia held up her hands. "Fine, we will talk about something else. Alex, why don't you tell Cameron about your art show?"

Alex licked his lips nervously and looked around at the six pairs of eyes now on him. Imogen looked away, feeling sorry for the kid. She'd barely just met him but there was something in him that she very much liked.

"I won a prize." His voice was meek.

"You did? That's great."

Imogen smiled at Cameron, whose interest was undivided as he looked at his younger brother.

"Second place. I got a blue ribbon and a thousand dollar scholarship to the art school."

"Alex," Bobby smiled. "Congratulations. I'm sorry we missed the show."

"Me, too." Cameron chimed in. He meant it. That guilt his mother was telling him he should be feeling was hitting him all at once. "Can I see the piece after dinner?"

"Sure," Alex's smile lit up his entire face. "Yeah, it's in my bedroom."

"Perfect," Cameron said, just as the soup bowls were being cleared away. The end of dinner couldn't come fast enough.

Cameron apologized to Imogen outside of Alex's bedroom.

"She has a bad habit of thinking that everyone is as comfortable with… well. It's like anything else to her. Now you see why I tried to spare you. It only gets worse."

Imogen pushed her bangs behind her ears. "No need to apologize. You warned me. Besides, I suppose she's right. It's only natural."

"But it's secret, too."

"Who ever said it had to be a secret?"

Cameron cleared his throat, and looked to Alex, who was digging the art piece out from under his bed. "I did."

* * * *

Later that evening, Sylvia took Imogen out to the garden, upon request. It smelled fresh and sweet. Grass, trees, and flowers hung heavy with the evening dew. Imogen drew her sweater closer around her and inhaled, smelling the clean jasmine and the wet air. She watched as the world around her darkened into a deep blue and the stars, twinkling and white, showed themselves in the sky.

Sylvia led her to a large canopy in the middle of the yard, where she set two steaming hot cups of coffee down on a table. Imogen sat and watched Sylvia light the lantern in its center.

From somewhere in front of her Imogen could hear birds flying around in the gathering darkness, trying to get back to their nests and young ones before night fell. Water splashed in dispersed intervals from the pond as fish leapt up and down.

Soft light from the lantern played on both of their faces.

"Thank you for inviting me," Imogen said, lifting the cup of coffee to her mouth and taking a cautious sip. "Your home is absolutely lovely."

Sylvia smiled, her long fingernails scratching against the side of her own cup. "Thank you. We are lucky for everything we have."

Silence settled over them and the cool breeze whipped their hair over their shoulders and cheeks.

"There's a change in him."

Imogen didn't feel the need to speak. Sylvia's eyes settled on something far off in the darkness.

"He's… I can't exactly put my finger on it. Nicer? He gives a damn. Did you do that for him?"

Imogen's breath caught in her throat with the weight of Sylvia's gaze. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "I can't take credit for that. I'm not sure what it is. I haven't known him for very long."

"Surely you know how dreary he can be."

Imogen chuckled. "Dreary." She licked her lips. "It wasn't easy, becoming his friend. I really had to try. But I'm glad he let me in. As much as he might not want to hear it, he's a good guy, and, even though I'm sure he'll never in a million years admit this to you, I know he loves you."

Sylvia smiled. "Today at the dinner table I nearly had a heart attack. Do you know how much it took for me just to get him out here? I thought my mission was accomplished when he finally showed up. I can tell you one thing, I never expected for him to be sociable. I can't remember the last time he asked Bobby and Sarah about the girls, or the last time he tried to take an active interest in anything but himself. But Alex. Those two have always been close."

Imogen smiled, taking a drink. "I sensed a bond between them. It's sort of unspoken. More felt than anything. Very strong."

"Yes. You know, everything with Cameron has always been difficult. He's so stubborn and independent. You can't rush him into anything. He has to learn for himself. You can imagine my apprehension when I found out I was pregnant with Alex. Cameron was nine at the time and I thought, 'Oh, Lord, here it goes.' I was sure Cameron was going to exhibit all, if not most, classic signs of sibling rivalry. As soon as I read that pregnancy stick, all the fights, the screaming, and the jealousy played out in my head. But Cameron wasn't at all the way I thought he might be. He welcomed Alex, helped me change his diapers, fed him when George and I were just too tired to even speak. Cameron was the one who taught Alex how to play baseball, the one who urged him to study art in school. There are times where I look back and wonder if I was a failure to him as a mother. But then, every once in a while, he surprises me. He surprises everyone. Those are the moments I live for, because then I know that I raised him right."

"I agree, Mrs. Moody. There's a reason I stuck around."

Suddenly, as if she were pulled out of a dream, Sylvia pricked up. "How did the two of you meet, anyhow? I haven't heard the story."

Imogen cleared her throat. "Our first meeting was… cataclysmic. I mean that in almost a literal way. There I was, new to the city, just trying to get to the park, when wham!" She smacked her open palms together. "There he was. He was in a hurry for work and we crashed into each other. I got injured. He took me up to his apartment and set my ankle for me. He sort of shoved me out after that."

Sylvia chuckled. "Typical."

"As you can see, I wasn't willing to give up that easily. I don't know. I guess you could say that I pursued him. I was new. I needed a friend. So did he."

"A story for the ages," Sylvia mused. "I think you more than got through to him, though."

A funny little feeling flared up in Imogen's stomach, like it was lighter than air. Was that nausea she was feeling? A two second battle between head and heart raged silently within her before she mustered up the courage to ask Sylvia to elaborate.

Sylvia shrugged and slicked her tongue across her front teeth. "The last time I met a girlfriend of Cameron's was when he was in the eleventh grade. I think she broke his heart. Either that or I embarrassed him so much that if he's ever had any girlfriends since he's kept them top-secret from me. Anyway, that's the last I've ever seen of any of them. Charlotte was her name."

"Mrs. Moody, Cameron and I… it's…"

"Complicated?"

Imogen shook her head. Definitely not complicated. "Platonic. We're only friends. I guess you can hardly even call us friends. We barely know each other. His walls are just now coming down. To be honest I'm flabbergasted that I managed to wriggle my way into that rental car." She chuckled.

"George and I were friends first, too. I think it's best that way."

Was it just her, or was it starting to get uncomfortably hot? Imogen scratched at her forehead in a nervous habit, feeling the sticky warm sweat that was starting to build up along her hairline.

"Do you like him?" Sylvia asked. Her eyes glittered in the soft light.

Imogen could feel the pulse at her temple quicken pace. "Sure, I like him well enough."

"No," Sylvia said. "I mean, do you
like
him?"

Well. Imogen didn't know how to answer that.