The Apartment (10 page)

Tears glittered in their eyes as they laughed and hugged again, this time with a much deeper appreciation of one another.

When they'd composed themselves, Hilary led her mother to Sean's bedroom. “You'll be sleeping in here.”

Her mother looked around the cheery room and frowned. Then she started sniffing, her nose making small telltale movements.

“Is something wrong?” Hilary asked.

“No…it's just that I thought I detected a whiff of spicy aftershave in here.”

“The former tenant was a man.” It was on the tip of her tongue to mention Sean, but it was too soon to shock her mother with the news she was in love.

Louise nodded, seeming to accept her explanation.

“Would you like a latte?” Hilary asked.

“That sounds delightful,” her mother answered; and followed her into the compact kitchen. While Hilary brewed the espresso, her mother opened the refrigerator and removed a carton of milk. She set it on the counter and hesitated.

“Did you know you had a six-pack of beer in here?”

“Beer?” Hilary repeated, clenching her teeth. It'd been there for weeks, a leftover from Sean's poker party. She'd forgotten about it, and apparently so had he. “Ah…yes, I remember now. I bought it for a friend and forgot all about it.”

“A friend,” her mother repeated slowly. “Someone from the symphony?”

“No.” She kept her back to her mother and squeezed her eyes closed, seeking wisdom. Louise had only been in the house fifteen minutes. It would have been so easy to casually mention Sean. If their living arrangement were different she'd do so immediately.

“Which friend is this, dear?”

Hilary wasn't any good at lying, and the only way out was the truth.

“It belongs to Sean.”

“Ah, yes,” her mother said, “your neighbor. You mentioned him once before. I'm hoping I'll get a chance to meet this young man who keeps beer in my daughter's refrigerator.”

“He's away for the weekend,” Hilary said quickly, and immediately regretted it.

“Visiting his own mother?”

“No,” Hilary said, carrying the two tall mugs to the table where her mother was seated. “She died when he was young. He barely remembers her.”

“You know quite a bit about this young man, don't you?”

Hilary sat across from her mother, her hands cupping the thick ceramic mug. “Yes…we've gotten close. It's Sean who's helped me better understand my relationship with you.”

“Oh?”

She looked away and smiled softly. “He told me what a neat-freak I was, and it made me realize how much you and I are alike. I have this precise way of folding the bathroom towels that drives him crazy and I realized it was the same way you do.”

Her mother was silent for a moment. “This…neighbor uses your towels?”

A moment of panic erupted inside Hilary as her eyes flew to her mother. She wasn't sure what to say or do. She might be able to lie her way out of this, but she'd rather not. Blurting everything out seemed the most logical choice, and she might have if her mother hadn't spoken first.

“Now tell me about your job and the symphony and the new friends you've made.”

Hilary did as her mother asked, but soon discovered she was talking more about Sean than anyone. “He's really been wonderful to me.”

“You say he's recently been discharged from the army?”

Hilary nodded. “He was a warrant officer with Special Forces. We both moved into the area at the same time and…we've become good friends.”

Her mother didn't comment. “Now tell me if you've met any young men from the symphony.”

Hilary bristled. “You've never even met Sean and already you're dismissing him.”

Her mother looked surprised by the emotion with which Hilary spoke. Hilary was somewhat surprised herself.

“He's a former soldier, Hilary. Trained to kill and…”

“I've never felt safer with anyone in my life. He's big and tough and gruff around the edges, but I've never known a gentler man.”

Her mother said nothing for a long moment, and then, “I see.”

“I did go out with one…a fellow from the symphony,” she added. “His name is Arnold. You'll have a chance to meet him yourself tomorrow afternoon at the performance.”

“This is going to be the best Mother's Day gift you could have given me, Hilary.”

“What is, Mother?”

“Being able to sit in the audience and watch you perform. Your father would have been so proud.”

Hilary nodded, her heart heavy because she knew, deep down, her mother had categorically dismissed Sean without ever having met him.

That afternoon they went shopping, but Hilary's heart wasn't in it. She made the motions and allowed her mother to buy her a new outfit. She was almost grateful when it was time to leave her mother for the last rehearsal before the Sunday performance.

* * *

Sean couldn't remember the last time he'd put on a suit and tie. The only reason he did so now was because he figured it would be expected of him. The symphony was for the upper crust and certainly nothing that would have interested him if it hadn't been for Hilary.

She'd given him the ticket weeks earlier. He hadn't intended to use it, and wouldn't now if he weren't so damn curious. His desire to see Hilary give her first performance with the symphony was his initial reason for his being there. It also gave him the chance to get a good look at Hilary's mother. Once he did, he just might be able to judge how receptive she'd be to her daughter falling in love with a nobody like him.

The usher escorted him to his assigned seat, and Sean was grateful it was at the end of the row. He hated the cramped feeling.

He began reading over his program and was completely lost. Sean liked to think of himself as an intelligent man, but there were letters and numbers listed with each composer, and he couldn't make heads nor tails out of the thing. This wasn't going to be the least bit of help.

“Excuse me,” he said to the attractive woman seated beside him. “Would you help decipher this for me?”

“I'd be happy to,” she said warmly.

Sean thanked her with a smile when she'd finished the explanation, and eased his finger along the inside of his collar. The damn thing was slowly asphyxiating him. He noticed the woman was watching him. “In case you hadn't guessed, this is my first time at a symphony. I feel as out of place here as a chicken in a nest of eagles.”

She laughed softly. It wasn't until she turned to him that Sean realized she wasn't nearly as young as he first thought. He'd assumed she was in her late twenties, but upon closer examination he realized she was closer to forty.

“I have a friend playing with the symphony,” Sean explained, proud of Hilary's talent. He didn't normally speak to strangers, but he felt a bit awkward and strangely talkative. “She's the third-chair flutist.”

“Ah,” the woman said softly. “Is she a good friend?”

“Very good.” Sean relaxed and crossed his long legs as his gaze scanned the audience. “Her mother's here someplace.”

“Are you hoping to meet her?”

“Not exactly,” Sean said, resisting the urge to laugh. “She'd take one look at me, and it would be the end of my relationship with Hil.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Hilary's family has got money, lots of money.”

“And that troubles you?”

“Not exactly, but I don't think her mother would approve of someone like me. Not that I blame her—if Hilary were my daughter I'd want the very best for her, too.”

“And you're not?”

This conversation was beginning to get a little more personal than he'd intended. “Yes, in some ways I am. But I doubt that her family would see it like that.”

“Then you love her, and would whether she had money or not?”

Sean looked away, surprised he would openly admit his feelings to a stranger and not Hilary. “I love her.”

“I see. I take it you intend to marry her?”

He thought for a good long while before answering. “No, I probably won't. She should marry someone in her own league. Take, for example, the fellow playing violin. His name is Arnold something-or-other. He's a nice guy from everything Hilary's said about him. He's asked her out a couple of times, but she always makes an excuse. I think once I move out, Hilary will agree to date him. I've got a wait-and-see attitude when it comes to Hilary and me. I want to give her the time and space to know her own mind before I broach the subject of marriage.”

“Once you move out?” she repeated. “Are the two of you living together?”

“In a nontraditional way,” he explained quickly, hoping to sound casual. “There was a mix-up and we both rented the same apartment. The couple who manage the place are out of town for several weeks. We didn't have any choice but to share the place until the owner returned with the deposit and first month's rent.” He could feel the tension ease from the woman. “Can you imagine what her mother would think if she found out about that?”

“I can very well imagine, since I have a daughter of my own. She's in her twenties.”

Sean had trouble believing the woman was old enough to have a child that old and said so.

“Thank you for the compliment, but it's true. I know exactly how this…other mother would feel.”

“Then you understand why it's better for everyone concerned that Hilary's mother never finds out about me.

The woman frowned. “I can't say I agree with that. If this young woman—what did you say her name was again?”

“Hilary.”

“Right. If Hilary's mother were to learn about the two of you, what do you think would happen?”

“For one thing, she'd be furious with Hilary, and their relationship is already a little rocky. Hilary's had this chip on her shoulder about proving herself to her mother. See, Hilary is headstrong and opinionated. She claims she inherited both traits from her mother.”

“I see,” the woman returned, laughing softly. “You know, this mothering business isn't as easy as it looks.”

“I'm sure you're right. I don't remember my own mother, so I feel at a loss when it comes to advising Hilary about hers.”

His companion relaxed. “Being a mother means far more than changing a few diapers and showing up for parent-teacher conferences. In fact, it's downright tricky business. We love them, guide them, give them our hearts and then are supposed to set them free.”

“I never thought of it in those terms,” Sean said.

The woman smiled softly and sighed.

He didn't entirely understand why he was talking so freely with this stranger, possibly because this issue was weighing so heavily on his own shoulders.

“There's a rhythm to being a mother…I know that sounds odd, but it's true,” she continued, sounding faintly emotional. “It's the part of parenting I've found the most trying. It fills me with self-doubts and worries, which I know are mostly unfounded, it's just that I can't keep from fretting about her. I know she hates that and I can't say that I blame her.” Just the way the woman exhaled told Sean she felt as uncomfortable sharing with him as he had with her.

“A rhythm?” Sean repeated.

“Yes…I hope you don't mind my talking so freely.”

“I confided in you, too,” Sean admitted, wondering at this bond he'd formed with a virtual stranger.

“I appreciate that because it's helped me define my feelings. Strange how you can meet someone you've never known before and learn so much about yourself.”

Sean nodded, experiencing the same feeling himself.

“It doesn't help matters that she's an only child. I fear I, too, hold on to her tighter than most mothers, because she's all I have. It was hard for me when she first learned to ride a bicycle. I was afraid she was going to fall and hurt herself, but that was only the beginning.

“Then she went off to college, and I was dreadfully lonely without her. Her freshman year she fell in love and was so badly hurt that she wanted to drop out of school. I wouldn't allow that, although I badly wanted to be there to protect her.”

“You did the right thing.”

She smiled softly. “It wasn't easy, any more than it was just recently.”

“Recently?”

“Yes, she's fallen in love for a second time. I believe she intends to marry this young man. I'm not certain he realizes it yet, but then, he doesn't know how stubborn my daughter can be.”

“You don't approve of him?”

“She's young, but then, I'd been married a year at the same age and was pregnant with her. I…don't really know this man she's chosen. We've only just met, but from what I've seen, I think he'll make her a good husband. But you realize what that means, don't you? It means I'll have to let go of her all over again.”

“She'll always be your daughter.”

“Yes, I realize that. It's just another step in this process, this ebb and flow of life. The holding on, the letting go. You know, the holding-on portion is the easy part, it's the letting go that's so damned difficult.”

Just then the thick curtain parted, and the audience applauded. Sean glanced over the program, the very program that had initiated this intense conversation with a stranger. They had each shared a deep part of themselves.

“Thank you,” Sean said, holding the other woman's eyes.

“No,” she said, her dark eyes intense. “Thank
you.
”

The music started after the round of applause. Sean assumed he'd be bored stiff. He'd never attended anything like a symphony performance and he wouldn't be here now if it weren't for Hilary.

He had to admit halfway through the schedule that it was enjoyable. Nothing he'd bring his friends to, exactly. The experience was…He searched for the right word. Pleasurably different, he decided.