Free My Holiday House Guest by Carolyn Gibbs

 
    The day before
Thanksgiving I sat at my kitchen table surrounded by various types of food in
all different stages of preparation. I peeled onions for the stuffing and of
course, no matter how often I rinsed them off, my eyes continued watering.
    Although I
looked like I’d been crying, I was happy and looking forward to this holiday.
My family had shrunk considerably in the past few years with the passing of my
Grandmother and my cousins’ moving away. All that’s left of my family here in
Arizona are my sister, Barbara and my son, Evan, whose arrival I was happily
anticipating. But I didn’t look forward to the unwanted laundry he’d be
bringing home from his freshman year at the University Of Arkansas.
    I anticipated Evan’s
arrival home from college anxiously. It was the longest amount of time we’ve
ever been apart. I was so proud of him being the first in our family to attend
college, and wanted to make it a great Thanksgiving for him.
    Since our family
is so small, I told him it would be okay to bring home a classmate who wouldn’t
be going home for the holiday. We have plenty to share, and I don’t think
anybody should spend the holiday alone.
    He said, “Cool
Ma,” and left it at that. I knew he was bringing someone home, but I had no idea
who.
    A car pulled up
into the driveway with the radio blasting. My baby’s home. I heard car
doors slam shut, and suddenly hoped my son’s friend was not a girl. Lord knows
I wasn’t ready for that yet. A freshman needs to concentrate on schoolwork.
    “Hey Mom, I’m
home!” I heard my son yell from the living room.
    “Evan, I’m in
the kitchen!” I called back. I couldn’t wait to see my only child.
    Evan burst
through the kitchen door and ran straight for me with open arms. We hugged each
other tight. “Welcome home, baby,” I said almost unable to breathe. My son had
grown stronger since our last hug.
    “Hey Mom, it’s
really good to see you. Something smells gooood,” he said, standing in front of
the stove. “What’s in the pots?” He picked up a lid, and I lightly patted his
hand.
    “No peaking
unless you plan to help. That’s for tonight…”
    The kitchen door
swung open again. I turned around and there was a gorgeous hunk standing in the
middle of my small kitchen. He was about six feet tall and muscular, with a
smooth, caramel complexion. He wore jeans and a black tee shirt, which
showcased his chiseled physique. He was extremely handsome, but I saw no signs
of pretentiousness, instead his face was warm and welcoming. His appearance
took me totally off guard. Our eyes met, and I felt an instant connection. Or
perhaps I wanted an instant connection with him, of the physical kind. What
woman wouldn’t with this man?
    “Hi, I’m Ravon
Taylor, Evan’s mother,” I managed to eek out.
    “Pleased to meet
you, Ms. Taylor. I’m Douglas Jenkins. Evan’s told me so much about you,” he
said. He took my hand that I hadn’t remembered extending, held it, and gave it
a firm shake. His hand was large and warm, and I thought, He’s so hot .
But he’s got to be my son’s age. Have I lost my mind? If I had lost it, it
wouldn’t be so bad trying to find it with him holding me. Not bad at all.
    “Please call me
Ravon. You’re a college student, too?” I asked.
    “Yes, I’m a
graduate student and the Area Coordinator of Hansen Hall, Evan’s dorm. I
oversee the Resident Assistant’s and manage the building. It’s helping to pay
for grad school.”
    Douglas
pulled the chair out and sat. “Thank you so much for inviting me to your home
for the holiday. This is very kind of you. I couldn’t really make the trip back
home to Pennsylvania, and my family is scattered all over the country.”
    “Oh, don’t
mention it. I’m just glad you’re not a girl…” We looked at each other and broke
out laughing.
    “So am I,” he
said.
    “That didn’t
come out right,” I said.
    “Mom, I wouldn’t
just spring a girlfriend on you like that,”