English could do nothing but burst out laughing as Axel’s mother placed a jet-black biscuit on her plate, patted her shoulder as if to say, ‘best of luck,’ and kept it moving. Axel had disappeared to the restroom, leaving her alone with his family. His mother was a thin, tall woman with blond hair, a bit of gray at the temples and brow, bright blue eyes surrounded by crow’s feet, and fingers that looked as if she’d been a dishwasher her entire life.
“Mama, nobody’s eatin’ that. The chicken is good though,” Dallas said, tearing into a piece of baked chicken. Her young son, Lucas, sat beside her, head down, playing on his handheld gaming system. English didn’t expect this sort of introduction to Axel’s family. One minute, she was at work, and the next, he told her he was going to swing by when she got off work. “You’re coming by for supper, and to meet my mother.”
New Order’s 1980’s classic, ‘Bizarre Love Triangle,’ played from a radio in the dining room, which sat wedged between assorted knickknacks and artificial plants covered in layers of dust. In spite of the clutter here and there, Axel’s mother’s home was nice, and appeared clean where it counted.
A wave of embarrassment washed over English as she felt herself secretly judging others. I’ve just been around too many White women who see me as some sort of anomaly or trinket. Here I am, this Black woman, dating her White son, who I know was a highly sought-after bachelor around these parts. Kentucky has all kinds of people… Lord, I hope she’s the right kind. I don’t even know if Axel told her I was Black before bringing me over here. She doesn’t seem terribly surprised or phased though.
Axel had always spoken highly of his mother, and realistically, too. For one, he’d told her how overprotective the woman was, always trying to tell him what to do. The nerve of the man—wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? But she kept that thought to herself. He also said she was stubborn and had a temper. Another hypocrisy. Axel didn’t seem to realize he was so much like his mother, it was almost comical.
Suddenly, she heard police sirens in the far distance—perhaps a street or two over. Flashes of her recent visit to the police station came to mind, making her feel heavy inside. To make matters worse, the police had contacted her that afternoon and said they pulled the video camera footage, but it was fuzzy due to the camera’s age and poor quality. There was no audio, either, all due to budget cuts and the city not keeping up with such things. Someone could have said Master had pulled up in a magic pink and blue polka dot school bus, then shot an arrow out of the window, and no one would’ve been the wiser.
“Everything all right, Axel?” his mother asked, jerking her out of her thoughts.
Axel made his way back to the table and sat down. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” He grabbed his beer and took a swig.
“Well, you were gone a while.” she explained while piling mashed potatoes on her plate.
“Probably was in the bathroom playin’ with himself like he used to when we was kids.”
“Dallas! You stop that!” The older woman’s face flushed, then she and Dallas burst out laughing. Axel played it cool, as if his sister had said nothing at all, and started to eat his chicken. Choke the chicken…
“I’m so happy you’re home, Axel! I mean, not home, but here,” the woman beamed so proudly at him, and he simply nodded. “I so rarely get to spend time with you. Last time you had to fly out of here. Not sure what that was all about. Anyway, I couldn’t believe it when I called you this morning, told you I was cooking and wanted you to come by, and you said yes. You never say yes to dinner!” she squealed.
Her exuberance made English tingle and feel good all over. She could feel the woman was genuine, and over the moon with happiness that Axel was there with her.
“Mama, I say yes sometimes, and we talk on the phone all the time.”
“Talkin’ on the phone and lookin’ you in the eye ain’t the same. I need to touch you, wrap my arms around you, every now and again. If you ever have children, you’ll understand. English, do you want some more mashed potatoes, hon?”
“No, ma’am. I’m fine. Thank you.”
“So, English,” his mother smiled big as she picked up a big glass of Mountain Dew, “Axel explained that you’re a book curator. I think he was surprised that I knew what that was!” She chortled.
“Yes, ma’am. I am.”
“I used to love to read! I don’t have much time now, and stopped doing it regularly once I got married and started havin’ kids, but it was one of my favorite pastimes.”