The Gentleman Caller

‘And how long have you known my mother?’ I asked, raising an eyebrow. The man at the front door grinned at me with teeth so pristine they had to be fake.

         ‘Oh, just a few months now,’ he sparkled at me. ‘She’s quite a lovely lady.’

         ‘A-huh,’ I frowned. ‘One moment please.’

         I closed the door in his face before he could respond, turning back into the house to track down my mum. I found her in her bathroom, clasping her best pearls around her neck.

         ‘Mum, some guy is here to–’ I stopped, sniffing the air. ‘Is that perfume?’

         ‘It is,’ she smiled at me from the mirror. ‘Do you like it?’

         ‘I guess,’ I frowned.

         ‘Good. I’ll put you down for it in the will.’

         ‘Mum!’ I rolled my eyes as she laughed at me, clipping on earrings.

         ‘I’ve finished enough bottles of perfume to know how long they take to empty – trust me, this one has more juice left than I do.’

         Earrings done, she grabbed her cane from where it was resting against the sink.

         ‘So who is this guy?’ I asked.

         ‘Oh, Wayne? He’s just a friend from my bowls club.’

         ‘Right,’ I smirked. ‘And just how friendly is he?’

         ‘He used to work in bathroom design, near Melbourne,’ she said, like that answered my question.

         ‘So…’

         ‘We’re going out to look at bathroom designs,’ she rolled her eyes.

         ‘What’s wrong with our bathroom?’

         ‘Nothing, if your hip still works,’ she chuckled, leaning on me to help her to the doorway. ‘No, I think it’s about time I made some adjustments. Problem is, I don’t know the first thing about where to get a disabled bathroom designed.

         ‘And that’s why you have a Wayne?’

         She smiled at me, but didn’t say anything.

When we got to the sitting room, she looked around confused.

‘I thought you said Wayne was here?’

‘Oh, he is,’ I laughed. ‘He’s waiting outside. Quite the gentlemen.’

‘If you don’t open that door this second,’ she glared, waving her cane at me, ‘I’m not going to be the only one in this house who needs a seat in the shower.’