Free Walk on Water by Josephine Garner

We got together and had a nice time. So we did it again. That’s all. We meet for lunch, dinner sometimes. Maybe a coffee. No big deal. Like old times.”
    “When you had a crush on him, you mean?”
    Feeding the butterflies in my stomach I took another bite of the lava cookie.
    “Mommy, I think I’ve outgrown that phase,” I said deceitfully dryly.
    “There is such a thing as arrested development,” she countered. “Isn’t that what you call it?”
    “That’s pretty good,” I complimented her, smiling. “But really we’re just friends. Like always. I’m not Luke’s type, Mommy, remember?”
    And because it was true it was surprisingly easy to say.
    “And I never have been,” I continued. “Not in that that way.”
    “Well I just hope you don’t let yourself get mixed up with him that’s all,” said Mommy. “I always say you don’t date enough. Although for the life of me I don’t know why. You’re still a pretty girl. Why do you think poor Robert keeps calling you? As long as you aren’t seeing anybody special he thinks he might still have a chance. You can be confusing to a man, Rae, sometimes.”
    “And boring,” I added.
    “Robert didn’t really mean that. He was just hurt that’s all.”
    Our waitress returned bearing a coffee pot and our check.
    “No thank you,” I declined more coffee as I reached for the check.
    “It’s my turn to pay,” Mommy said.
    “My treat today,” I replied, pulling out my Visa and placing it on the little plastic check tray.
    I had seen Luke pay more for a single entrée than the total price of our Red Lobster check. He was by no means broke. Just broken. I wondered why I didn’t tell Mommy this part, why I was saying nothing about the accident and the wheelchair. It wasn’t something to hide or to be embarrassed about, and yet I wasn’t telling her.
    “Just don’t give Luke the wrong idea,” Mommy was warning me. “Like I always told you, boys are not toys. And grown men certainly aren’t. You’re not too old to get in trouble, Rachel. And I’ve seen those lab tests miss things. The last thing you need is a disabled child to raise by yourself.”
    Or with a disabled father.
    “Mommy, I’m celibate,” I reminded her.
    “You don’t have to be,” she said coolly. “You just have to be careful.”
    As I drove her home, Mommy chatted about a lot of things to which I barely listened. At least she seemed satisfied that I wasn’t about to do something silly about/for/with Luke. My life was like my Corolla, tootling along in the right hand lane, prudently, predictably. When we arrived at Mommy’s house, she was surprised that I didn’t shut off the engine and get out, but football season had started so Sixty Minutes would be delayed, and I was kind of tired.
    “I want to wash my hair,” I offered as an excuse. “I’m gonna get home.”
    “Your hair looks fine,” replied Mommy. “Come in. I’ll make us both a cup of cleansing tea. We need it after that Lava cookie thing.”
    She swore by her teas, believing them to be as good as exercise for keeping you fit and trim. Mommy was in good shape, with a figure that could belong to a woman younger than her daughter. I guessed that I had inherited my frame from Peter.
    “I don’t have a stomachache, Mommy,” I chuckled as I kissed her on the cheek. “I just feel like making it an early night that’s all.”
    “Well, okay,” she conceded reluctantly. “Call me later.”
    “Okay.”
    I watched Mommy mount the three steps to the small porch, steps that Luke couldn’t climb anymore. She turned to wave to me before unlocking the front door and I waved back. The security alarm beeped loudly as she went inside.
    Of all the boyfriends that I had had, including Robert and even after we were married, Luke was the only man that I had made love to under Mommy’s roof. With all the others it had always felt too disrespectful to have sex in Mommy’s house. With Luke, love was what I had felt,