FirstLineFiction beta

from Contest #7

"She's a local."

The news anchor’s voice trailed off. Well, I wouldn’t say it trailed off, but rather I did—into a world of pure bliss. His voice was so manly, masculine that I know that he had to be the envy of every woman in town; not to mention maybe a male or two. He was so good looking that he could truly make the worst of tragedies seem better off than it truly was. His dark hair that was never out of place shone against the lights that lit his face from above. “We will be back in a half hour after the national news. Until then, this is Vince Rodgers. Good night, God bless.” The music kicked on signaling the end of newscast and my voyage back to reality quickly set in. Which was probably a good thing because my mother had sauntered herself into the living room from the kitchen where she was cooking dinner.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” she told me in her sweet voice. She was a tall lady of about forty-two, with the look of a modern day Elizabeth Montgomery (you know, the Bewitched lady), but only with brunette hair—not blond--devoid of all magical powers. Normally, when I was watching television, she would say that dinner was ready or almost ready and head back into the kitchen. However this time, instead of turning back into the kitchen, she continued over to the couch where I was still trying to awaken from my dream induced state and sat down beside me. “Is everything okay? Is there something the matter?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.” Everything was fine. Everything was truly fine, especially since Mother was massaging my hair. I just loved it when she did that. It always made feel safe, untouchable by any outside force. “I was just nodding off, that’s all.”

“Okay. Well, when you wake up, come into the kitchen and set up the table for me. We’re having ourselves a Greek feast tonight: Gyros, kabobs and salad.” We weren’t Greek in by any means, but while in college, Mother had spent a full year abroad in Greece and fell in love with the culture and the food. In fact, it was said by her that I was conceived while they honeymooned in Mykonos, which could explain why I consider tonight’s dinner one of my favorite meals.

I followed my mother into the kitchen, going to the cabinets to grab plates and silverware, pondering the reasoning behind this meal. I’m sure that she didn’t need a reason to fix tonight’s meal. It’s just that usually this meal comes with a special occasion—a birthday or some other non-trivial event, but neither was today.

“You’ll have to set an extra setting tonight. We’re having a guest.” She told me as I getting ready to shut the cabinet door, only two place settings in my hand. Okay, so maybe I was wrong.

Instantly, my curiosity peaked. It wasn’t very often that mother brought a guest into our home. You see, my father was a victim of the Terrorist attacks on 9/11. That day hit us hard, as it had most of the world, but for us that day was extremely rough. You see, Dad was a pilot and had taken another pilot’s scheduled flight that day. He was supposed to be off, as it was my parent’s anniversary weekend. They had quarreled that whole night; I don’t think that either they or I got any sleep that night. Nor did mother and I really sleep the week after the crash. There were nights afterward that I would sleep in their bedroom with her, just so that she wouldn’t be alone after such a loss.

Mother hadn’t really seen any man, let alone, talked to a man (other than me) since that happened, and I think now that I’m leaving for college in a couple of months, she’s finally deciding to get back out into the dating world. A world I myself had vacated about a year ago to spend more time with mother. I guess that she was finally willing to take a chance on love again. Me, I’d wait to see what the next four years of my life in college brought.

Just then, the doorbell rang. “Could you go get that for me, sweetie?” My mother asked. I immediately exited the kitchen after placing the plates on the table and went to the door. To my surprise, Vince Rodgers, the local newscaster was on the other side of the door. The closest thing that this town had to a hot shot celebrity: he was young (maybe about 26-27), talented, and attractive (tall, dark, and handsome)—everything that celebrities should be, but that some are not. This is a man that is going to go places with his career and here he was in our house—or in the doorway rather, still with stage make-up covering his unblemished skin.

I just stood there, perplexed with a big (well, I shouldn’t say big—weird is more like it) smirk on my face. I mean, he was just on the air not but twenty-five minutes ago. What was he doing here at our house? He had another newscast to do. Needless to say, things were a bit awkward at that moment. But, mother could always be counted upon to break the ice. “Who is it, sweetie?” My mother’s voice was a little faint from the kitchen where the smell of Greece wafted. As if she needed to ask. She knew full well who was at the door.

“Hi, Angela. It’s me, Vince.” Damn, even his voice sounded more masculine in person. I just didn’t picture him to be quite so tall. He was probably about a full head and a half taller than I was and had a decent amount of muscle tone, which was visible through his mustard color shirt.

As Mother (Angela from here on in) heard his voice, she came into the doorway, and went to Vince with a hug. “So glad that you could join us tonight for dinner. You have your passport, right?” Angela gave a chuckle.

“No. I didn’t know that I was supposed to bring it. It wasn’t instructed to do so.” His baby blue eyes that were almost transparent twinkled as he gave out a laugh. He then turned his gaze over to me. “You must be Aden. Nice to have met you.” He offered his hand for me to shake. Not only was I star struck at that particular moment, but amazed that a local celebrity (one that I had admired for a while) actually knew my name. He knew my name. I couldn’t believe it.

“Aden,” Angela scolded. I snapped back to reality. “Forgive him Vince. Come; let us enjoy a trip to Greece.” With that, he put his hand down. Angela led the way into the kitchen where the meal lay out before us on the table. It truly did look delicious and I could not wait to get my hands on the first gyro, which was always the tradition. I figured that tonight would be no different. Boy was I wrong.

“Aden, don’t be so hasty. There’s plenty of food to go around. We have a guest.” She then looked to Vince, which, as it turns out, was getting the first gyro of the night this night, and told him to go on ahead. “You have the honor of getting the first gyro tonight.” I felt dejected. The first gyro was always mine. Now, a complete stranger, someone that my mother does not know quite all that well is getting the first one? I couldn’t believe it.

“Well, thank you, Angie. Everything just looks so good.” He loosened his tie and the top button, and put his napkin upon his lap and went for the sprawling food that lay upon the table. Once food had been dispersed, the real conversation began. I posed the first question, being the inquisitive person that I am.

“Not that I mind you being here, but how come you’re not at the station? I mean, there’s another newscast on right now.” I hadn’t really intended on getting down and dirty like that right off the bat. I mean, this was a man that I admired. In fact, he was one of the main reasons why I want to go into Broadcast Journalism in college. “I mean, you just can’t take off like that just to go on a date with my mother. I don’t really foresee that as an emergency or breaking news, do you?” I honestly don’t know what I was thinking at that moment. I guess that I just wanted him to feel small for taking over my tradition. I was going to let him have it, and have it good, inspiration or not.

“Aden,” here we go. Another scolding from Angie. “What has gotten into you tonight?” She motioned towards Vince. “At least you could be courteous to our guest. Say your sorry this instant.”

Say I’m sorry? Me? She was the one that has taken someone that I hold in high regard and is flaunting him in my face as a prize and she wants me to apologize? I don’t think so. I got up, flung my napkin down on my plate, took a sip of water and left the kitchen in a hurry. I didn’t even notice that Vince stood up right as I got into the hallway to follow me wherever I was going, which wasn’t really that far, just my bedroom.

My door slamming was caught by the masculine hand of Vince. He gingerly pushed it away from him, as he followed my footsteps to the bed. “Go away,” I snapped.

He didn’t go away. Instead, he turned the door and entered into my sanctuary. “Aden, I know how difficult this must be for you.”

“Oh, yeah, wanna bet?” I couldn’t bear to look at him.

“I mean, your father has been dead for how long now, and it’s just been you and your mother? Then, I waltz in. I can only imagine what is going on in your brain." He paused for a slight second. "I like your mother. She’s a real nice, down-to-earth woman. Any guy would be lucky to find themselves in the situation I am in. Hell,” (I didn’t know news anchors could curse) “I was even nervous tonight coming here. Seeing you for the first time, not knowing how you would react. Then I come here, and you became an okay kid.” Sitting on my bed, (was this actually happening? I pinched myself to wake up) he continued. “You’re funny, bright, charming, dependable—”

“You just described a dog. I’m not a dog. I don’t have a leash or collar.” I said coldly. I truly despised that comment in case you couldn’t tell. I never take criticism well, especially when it comes from a person that I hardly knew--granted, I admired him, but he didn't need to make lude comments my way.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that. But you are all those things. Ang—your mother—has done a good job raising you. You have been there for your mother like a son should be.” He put his arm across my shoulders, like a father would a son during a heart to heart conversation. All of a sudden, I don’t know what came over me, but I felt something deep within the pangs of my stomach. Still to this day, I cannot describe what it felt like, but it is because of this pang that I did something that I know I shouldn’t have done. My heart, pounding, I turn my head towards him. Eyes closed, head tilted, moving to him, I laid a kiss on Vince Rodgers, the newscaster, the man that was here in our house. The man, that was there to visit my mother. And we are not talking just a small peck on the cheek or on the lips; we’re talking about full on, into the emotion type kiss, one that is normally shared between two lovers.

After about a second or two, I release my mouth from his. “Wow,” I pant.

“Yeah, wow.” He was panting, too. For a man that was here to see my mother, he sure did seem like he enjoyed that kiss just as much as I did. “That was—”

“Uncalled for, I know. I just couldn’t help it. You’re attractive and I guess that I was trying to get back at my mother for embarrassing me.” I didn’t know if what I had just said was the truth or not. I mean, he was attractive. I just wasn’t sure if I had kissed him out of spite for my mother or if I just wanted to see what it felt like to kiss a celebrity, be it though a male. “I love women. I shouldn’t—I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” He gave out a small chuckle.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. I apologize.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry.” He paused for a second. Needless to say, it was one of the longest seconds of my life. I mean, I had just laid a kiss on someone that was here to see my mother. Was he going to tell her? Worse off: was he going to run away now that he knows I have an infatuation with him? How would I explain his sudden and quick departure to Angie if that were to happen: ‘Mom, I kissed Vince.’ How would she react to that news? “You wouldn’t believe all the fan mail I get at the station from women and men saying that they love me. Some letters even have a kiss printed on the paper.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not angry?” I really couldn’t look at him now. I felt ashamed at myself. I felt like I had betrayed the one person whom had always been there for me, as I had been for her.

“No, of course not, I’m flattered.” He then stopped again.

This got my attention. He was flattered that I kissed him? “Wait, did I miss something? I just kissed you.”

He stood up and went to the door. “Yeah, and? It’s like I said before: I get letters with kisses on them. I mean, this is the 21^st century, Aden.” I was shocked. I really hadn’t intended on him taking what had happened so accepting, especially since the news station that he works for is conservative in nature, which for what I had just done, kind of surprised me—I think of myself of being rather conservative. Not to say that his views skew the way mine does; it appears that they don’t if he’s that okay with what happened. “Don’t worry. It’s okay,” (here’s the calm demeanor that’s soothing the tragedy at hand) “This will be our secret. Your mother won’t ever know what happened. This will be just between you and me. The only way that she’ll ever know what happened is if one of us tells her. And, although this could be potentially damaging to her and mine’s relationship, I will not tell her.”

“You won’t tell her?”

“No. Not if you don’t. If you do, then I might have to deny that it happened. I really like your mother.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I maneuvered myself off of my bed and went to the door, behind Vince, relieved that I had his total understanding. “Come on. Let’s venture back to Greece, shall we?”

“Yeah, why not.” I followed him out of my bedroom and back down to the kitchen, where Angie was still sitting at the table. When we sat down, she started in on the Third degree.

“Is everything okay, Aden?” She started, but for some reason stopped. There would be no Third degree tonight. Angela was very polite when there was company around. She was just being a mother, making sure that I was okay.

“Yeah, it’s all good.” I throw a wink to Vince.

Everything was okay. And all it took was a newscaster coming to dinner. 

 

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