THAT CAME OUT WRONG
Aiden glanced at his watch, and his mother finally called him on it.
“What, am I keeping you from some hot date?” She sounded a cross between annoyed and hopeful.
He winced. They were at Annabel’s, one of the nicer restaurants in Fool’s Falls. He had thought he’d take his mother out as a treat and as a sort-of apology for her car still not being fixed. It wasn’t a terribly fancy place—there were no terribly fancy places in the Falls, honestly—but it was a sit-down restaurant that had a decent pasta plate and steaks, and his mother liked both those things. He’d deliberately taken her at five o’clock, when senior hour started. Now, it was two hours later, and she was lingering over her dessert. The waitress looked irritated, and Aiden promised himself he’d leave a good tip.
“I do actually have something to do,” he admitted. “Not to rush you, or anything.”
Her eyes widened, and she almost dropped her fork on her huckleberry cheesecake. “You really do have a date?”
“No!” He squirmed in the hard wooden chair. “Not a date. Just meeting up with some online friends.”
She scoffed. “Fifty years old, still playing video games,” she said, shaking her head.
“Lots of people do it now, Ma.” He grinned. “That woman, the one whose email you gave me, just joined. I think she’s your age.”
“Pfft.” She took another bite of cake. “Why would a woman, especially an older one, want to get involved in that foolishness? I don’t get it.”
“Tell that to TacticalGramma,” he murmured. Of course, TacticalGramma was closer to his age than his mother’s, but the point still stood: video games were no longer simply the province of pimply-faced teenage boys.
“What?”
“Nothing. Never mind.” Despite the facts, he knew better than to get into a debate if he wanted to get out of here. He really was anxious to get back and get ready for tonight’s quest. They were going to be taking on the citadel, and that would take a lot of focus and concerted effort, something they struggled with at the best of times. He’d met most of their team members relatively recently, at Fool’s Falls Community College, so they tended to be on the younger side.
As his mother raked the edge of her fork through what remained of the cheesecake, he surreptitiously texted his friend Malcolm under the table.
AIDEN: Gonna be late to the guild meeting tonight. Are the guys behaving? How is Bogwitch doing?
MALCOLM: I’m not there, remember? Sophie’s having her piano recital tonight.
Aiden winced. Sophie was Malcolm’s twelve-year-old daughter, and Malcolm had mentioned this was coming. Even though Malcolm loved playing Blood Saga, between the demands of running the hospice business by himself （something that stabbed Aiden with guilt from time to time） and juggling his family’s needs, he couldn’t always play, even though the game was his best stress relief. Hell, the two of them had played earlier versions of Blood Saga when Malcolm and he had started the business.
AIDEN: Shit, sorry, forgot. Talk to you later.
He frowned at his phone before tucking it back in his pocket. That meant that the group was probably in the guildhall, unsupervised. Or at least, he hoped they were still in the guildhall. He noticed that BigDorkEnergy and TheFerocity tended to run off at the mouth and get themselves killed constantly without a little guidance. He could only imagine what they’d do left to their own devices.
He was also curious to see how Bogwitch held up, if she’d still play with the level-twenty-seven character or one of her level one hundreds. She was . . . unexpected. A power player, and a thoughtful one, even if her build was initially questionable. She could trash-talk with the best of them, but she wasn’t a selfish player or a glory hound. She’d obviously been playing for some time and seemed to know the lore. He could see her being an asset in the guild if they didn’t scare her off or simply annoy her into quitting.
Besides, he appreciated her sense of humor and feistiness and thought maybe she’d be a friend, sometime, down the line.
“Have you found a date to the wedding yet?” his mother said, interrupting his reverie.
“Um . . . no,” he replied to stall for time. “But I’m working on it. I hung out with Riley Stone the other night—you remember him?”
“Your old quarterback?” She nodded. “Heard about him. Been divorced all this time, and acts like dating is his job. Nobody can pin him down. At least, that’s what the church ladies say. You’d think that he was a blue-ribbon cow the way they carry on.”
He snerked a laugh, finishing his decaf coffee. “Yeah, pretty much. Anyway, he said he might help me find someone.” Okay, he’d more cautioned than offered help, but at least it showed effort.
“Does he even know any nice women?” his mother asked, her eyebrow arched with skepticism. “Because . . .”
“Oh, hi, Janine!”
Aiden looked up to see Deb there, smiling broadly at his mother.
His mother gave her a small smile. “Hi, Deb,” his mother said, as warmly as he’d ever heard her. He remembered Deb from the after-church get-together at the diner, and remembered Riley’s comments about her. She wants to get remarried. She’s into you.
“We talked about you coming here for dinner on Thursdays,” his mother said, and Aiden had a sneaking suspicion that there was a reason she’d lingered so long. “I didn’t realize you ate so late.”
“I like to treat myself from time to time,” Deb said, sending Aiden a coy smile. “I didn’t know the two of you were going to be here! How nice!”
“Did you want to join us?” his mother asked, and he panicked. He quickly cleared his throat.
“I actually just asked for the check,” he said, and his mother scowled at him. “Sorry, Deb, I have a thing I have to do tonight, and I need to run Mom home first, so . . .”
Her face fell for a second, and then her bright smile came out in full force. “No problem! Maybe we can have dinner some other time?” She winked.
Was the wink to let him know she was joking? God, he hoped that was the case.
“Oh, but that reminds me. Riley said that you wanted to come to my football party?”
His mother’s gaze shot to him, and she raised an eyebrow.
“If that’s all right?” he asked. “I didn’t mean to invite myself. I just thought . . .”
“No! I’d love to have you,” Deb said. “You’ve been in town all this time, and you haven’t really gotten out much. I mean, that was understandable, with your father and all . . . I was so sorry for your loss . . .”
His mother flinched slightly. After a year, the loss was still a tender spot. But she was also looking at him expectantly, her gaze flitting from him to Deb and then back, her intent clear.
Oh, God, this was uncomfortable.
“But it would be great for you to hang out with all of us,” Deb continued. “It’s not good to be alone all the time. Don’t worry! We don’t bite.” Her smile was warm and welcoming and made him want to make a break for it.
“Of course he’ll go,” his mother answered before he could say anything, and he choked.