FIFTY FOUR

It was late in the afternoon by the time they got back to Fabian’s place. The sun had gone into hiding behind the brewing dark clouds. Lunch at Margaret’s had been wonderful and peppered with light but meaningful conversation. Fabian cupped his chin as he sat at the kitchen table smiling away at the memory of the older woman making a fuss over him. She reminded him more and more of his own mother.

Not that he could remember his own mother’s face. He had been too young when she left and memories of her face had become a blur over the years. Still, he felt that his mother would probably look a bit like Margaret. They were roughly about the same age too. He liked her, a lot. And it wasn't something that happened to him often.

He found it amusing that the older woman nagged at him to finish his meal and scolded him for touching dirty dishes in the sink. He chuckled.

“What are you laughing at?” Amber asked. She was busy cleaning up the m