Stolen Time

“Any room for dessert?”

“Oh, no thank you,” I told the waitress. “I’m afraid we have to get going.”

We paid our bill and headed towards the car.

“Your turn to drive,” Darren joked and tossed me the keys.

“Fine.” I uttered, giving him a smug look and a pointed tongue. We had already been driving for three hours until we decided to stop for a quick brunch and had about three more to go.

This is Darren’s first trip to my hometown to visit my mother who had invited us to dinner so she could finally meet the ‘fine young gentleman who stole your heart’ as she described him. I met Darren six months ago in our History class at Wellington University where I am studying to be a History teacher while Darren had decided he wants to teach Math. Early on in our first few dates, we thought it would be a nice to find ourselves teaching at the same high school where he would walk into my classroom and say with a smile, “So I’ll see you for lunch, Mr. Greene?” With the classroom then letting out a cheerful “oooo!” I’d blush, of course, but then direct their attention back to Germany’s September 1st attack on Poland. World War II is my favorite history subject and I will be sure my students will be able to ace every question about the it.

I glanced over and smiled at Darren who was finally able to admire the mountainous scenery and not having to worry about the road ahead.

“What’s on your mind, Derek?” He asked. His peripherals caught me again.

“Just glad we’re finally able to get away from school for a while and you can finally meet my mother.” I said. “I’m warning you now, however, when she cooks, she puts the Las Vegas buffets to shame and you will never have a dessert as good as hers.”

I went on to tell him about the different desserts she used to try and fatten me up with as a child. I’d come home from school and walk in to the scent of a French bakery. Mom loved baking French macarons and trying out different flavors of cream between the perfectly soft and smooth cookies. Her favorite was the lavender coconut macaron, with mine being one with the creamy chocolate ganache filling. However, she knew that while I did love her favorite dessert, mine would always and forever be her chocolate cake. Nothing was ever sweeter than her rich and moist chocolate cake, spread evenly with an airy and light chocolate frosting and chocolate chips dispersed all over to reach and satisfy every texture. Darren knew my favorite as well and would often try to surprise me with a slice of cake that he picked up from the bakery and try to hide it until after dinner, but little did he know that I can smell a chocolate cake three miles away and can’t wait to walk into the house and let the chocolate enrich all of my senses once again.

“I’m sure I’m going to like her and her cooking so much, that even I’ll be calling her ‘Mom’ by the end of the evening,” he joked.

We finally arrived to my hometown and I was sure to point out all of my favorite and unfavorite places. It was a smaller town with a population of around ten thousand people who were all more than happy to be in each other’s business, which filled me up with eighteen years of eagerness to finally leave for college.

“That’s our mall,” I said, embarrassingly. It was one long building that consisted of a Dollar Store, a clothing store, a Goodwill, and an auto parts store. “It’s not much, but it’s enough for the town,” I said and shrugged. I could tell he was trying to act impressed and fascinated, but Darren was a big city boy who dreamed of a small town and I was the exact opposite.

My favorite places consisted of the Goodwill where I was always on the search for antiques, the grocery store that was just down the street from the mall, and the indy coffee shop that everyone had deserted as soon as Starbucks was built. The older couple that owned the place would tell me that I was their favorite regular and would stir up my favorite chai tea latte as soon as I walked in along with a chocolate muffin. It was no cake that they knew was my favorite, but their muffins surely sufficed.

The unfavorite was the dreaded mall. I explained to Darren that the ‘cool’ kids would hang out in the parking lot, sitting on their cars and would wait for me to walk out of the clothing store and shout something stupid like, “Hey, did you get a new pink shirt?” For the record, I’d rather have a fine pressed pink collared Polo than a torn and greased up black t-shirt.

We finally arrived to mom’s house and pulled in the driveway.

“Derek Greene, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like this before.” Darren said laughing while I rushed to grab my luggage.

“No man could ever make my as happy as my momma could!” I sassed.

Mom heard us pulling up and stood at the door to greet us.

“Mom!” I shouted and ran up to hug her. Her hugs were the warmest and most affectionate.

“And who is this?” She asked while looking to Darren.

“Hi ma’am,” Darren said while extending his hand for a shake.

“Oh, put that away,” Mom said while wrapping him in a hug that seemed tighter than mine.

I soaked in the imagery of my old house. Everything still looked the same, but there was only one thing missing.

The smell.

After catching up and filling her in on what the college life was like and mine and Darren’s high school teacher dreams, dinnertime came around and I couldn’t help but ask, “I’m surprised you haven’t been cooking up a storm in here and baking your favorite treats!”

“Well, I thought we could order some food and spend more time catching up,” she explained. “But I do miss my macarons.”

After eating the Chinese food that we ordered, we sat in the backyard around the fire pit. Something had been off with Mom. I could understand not wanting to cook, which I knew she enjoyed, and just wanting to catch up with me and get to know Darren, but she had seemed less happy and moved slower than when I could remember. I watched her converse with Darren trying to figure it out.

“Derek’s father would have loved you so much,” Mom told him. He smiled and said thank you.

My father died in a car accident when I was in elementary school, leaving mom with the responsibility of continuing to raise me and sending me off to college. I wasn’t able to create to many memories with him, but I held on to the ones that I did. Mom missed him dearly though and some times were more obvious than others. I tried my best not to let her down, but luckily we grew up to be best friends.

“Have you been doing OK, lately?” I asked.

“Just getting older,” she sighed. “There is something that I wanted to tell you, and waited until you were able to come visit so I didn’t have to tell you over the phone.”

My breath escaped me.

“I had started to feel weaker and weaker very rapidly, so I went to see my doctor and she sent me to get labs done and scanned. They ended up telling me that I have pancreatic cancer.”

I started to cry and got up to hug her. This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to come to a big dinner with our favorite desserts and plan a vacation together and she was going to live her best life up to the age of a hundred.

“I really wanted to cook your dessert for you once again, but I just don’t have the strength in me anymore,” she said.

I couldn’t help but cry and hold her even closer. I don’t think I could ever let go.

Darren got up to hug us both.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” she said, wiping away my tears. “I’ve lived a great life and have had the chance to raise the greatest son in the world. What I’d want most is for you to finish school, and become the best history teacher around.” She continued to hug me.

“And you better finish school also and take good care of him,” Mom smirked at Darren.

“Yes ma’am.” Darren said and smiled.

We spent the rest of the night talking in the backyard, trying to forget the bad news but it did its best to linger in the back of my mind. I’m going to lose my mother. There's been so much time that's been taken from us.

I told her that I’d be coming more often to see her to spend more time with her, and she told me not to worry too much because she had a travel nurse that would come to help her around the house and to take her to her hospital appointments. I must’ve given her the world’s longest hug before I left.

The drive back was mostly silent.

Hours later, we passed by the same diner where Darren asked, “You wanna stop for a quick bite again?”

“That sounds good, I could use a break.” I said. I offered to drive to help get my mind off of everything. Darren did his best to try and cheer me up during the meal. He offered to help drive back down to come see her and I knew he would be there for me when the worst crept its way through time.

“Any room for dessert?” The waitress asked.

“Yes!” Darren chimed in. “He’ll have the chocolate cake.”

He smiled and me and I smiled back.