Sharon’s Note: You ever have that person who end up in your life, and you couldn’t get rid of if you wanted to? You probably don’t actually want them gone, but you are very aware of the fact that they are here to stay no matter what. It’s nice, isn’t it? Warning: Cuteness.
“You’re out of cereal,” Sarah said.
“Already?” Mr. Blight looked up from his tablet as she trotted into his living room.
“It was a very small box.” She shrugged and plopped down next to him on the couch.
“Did you wash the bowl?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, and the glass that was in the sink too.”
The leather of the couch sighed as he sat up and stretched. “Liam must have left it there last night.”
“Is Liam your boyfriend?” Sarah picked at one of the brass buttons on the couch until he lightly swatted her hand.
“Not exactly.”
“Is he your booty-call?” A mischievous grin broke out on her face as his eyebrows raised in shock.
“That is a very personal question young lady. It’s also rude, and I expect better of you.”
Blushing, Sarah ducked her head. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” He lifted his arm and she leaned against his side. “So what are you doing over here at this time of night?”
“Mom brought her new boyfriend over because she thought I was asleep. I was, but they were . . . loud.”
“Well, you’re welcome to spend the night in the guest room again if they are going to be loud all night.”
“Nah. It’s a school night. I’ll hang out here for a little bit then sneak back over. They can’t be at it all night. Even if Mom is ‘reliving her youth.'” The dirty look she shot back at her could have melted steel.
“Have some patience your mother. She’s trying to find herself, even if I don’t necessarily like the way she’s doing it.” Half laughing, he kissed the top of her head. “Besides, finding love isn’t easy. Especially after the first time. Believe me, I know.”
Sarah looked up at him, calculation running through her eyes. “You know if you’re looking for love, and Mom is looking for love, maybe you two should date.”
Mr. Blight burst out laughing. He laughed so hard he had to clutch his gut while he rocked, and dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief. Pink stained the white cloth in little streaks.
“You . . . you think me. . . and . . . your mother. . .” He had to stop a second to catch his breath. “Oh, I’m sorry, little one, but she isn’t my type.”
Crossing her arms and pouting, she said, “Why not? You like girls too. I know you do! I see girls leaving your house first thing in the morning just as often as I see boys.”
“I didn’t realize you paid so much attention to the comings and goings of my house.” Laughter drained from his face. “You don’t talk to any of them, do you?”
“No, why?” She cocked her head to one side while she started picking at a button again.
“Some of them aren’t . . . appropriate for a young lady to associate with. That’s all.” He grabbed her hand away from the button and held it pressed between his. “In all seriousness, if you see anyone around my house, keep your distance. Especially if they didn’t come out of the house, understand?”
“Yeah, okay.” Eyes narrowed, she asked, “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
He dropped her hands and leaned back. “That is a very complicated question. I haven’t done anything wrong. But I used to hang out with some very bad people. They, or some people who had a problem with them, might come looking for me. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”
“Hey, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.” Sarah turned so that she was kneeling facing Mr. Blight. “I can totally take care of myself.”
“Feet off the couch,” he said, but he was smiling. Rolling her eyes, she dropped back down to her butt, and they both chuckled. “You are a perfectly capable young lady, but I want your word that you’ll stay away from the people around this house. Alright?”
“Okay, I promise.”
Gray Matters: The Works of Sharon and James Gray 