Chapter Six - The Devil Never Rests

It had been two months since my trip to Paris, and December was just starting. The weather was a mix of hot and cold, with occasional rain that seemed to reflect my unsettled state. I was back in the office, preparing for a presentation on how everything had gone in France. My bosses were back from their own conferences, and it was time to show them the results of my efforts overseas.

The presentation went amazingly well. They were impressed with the results, and I could see the satisfaction in their eyes. Apparently, they had also talked to the team in France, who had nothing but praise for my work. One of my bosses even joked, saying there was another conference in June in the US and they would consider sending me if I kept up the good work. My heart skipped a beat at the mention of the country, but I laughed it off, wondering why life kept throwing these cruel twists my way.

My life was great now, on the surface at least. Mpumi from the party and I were now talking regularly, though nothing special had happened between us. We had been on two dates, and she seemed like a genuinely nice person. But I was still insecure, careful with my heart. The pain from Paris had made me wary, and I wasn't ready to let someone in so easily.

This weekend, I decided to visit my mother to share my work successes and catch up. As I walked into her cosy home, the familiar warmth and comfort greeted me. She was in the kitchen, humming a tune as she prepared lunch.

"Hey, Mom," I called out, dropping my bag by the door.

She turned, her face lighting up with a smile. "Lizzy! How are you, sweetheart? How was work? And why do you keep on bringing clothes here like your closet isn't full already?"

"Great," I said, leaning against the counter and ignored her last question. "The bosses loved my presentation. They even joked about sending me to a conference in the US in June if I keep up the good work."

Her eyes twinkled with pride. "That's wonderful, honey! I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom. How have you been?" I diverted the conversation to her. I missed her while I was busy preparing my presentation.

"I've been good. Just the usual stuff." My mother had this goofy smile on her face as she told me that her best friend from high school had texted her.

"Really? Who?" I asked, intrigued.

"You won't know her because she was my friend long before you were born," she said, her smile widening. "Her name is Xander."

I raised an eyebrow, noticing how my mother's expression seemed to soften at the mention of the name. "Why do you look so weird, Mom?"

She sighed, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. "Because Xander and I were more than friends. We dated for two years. She is the one that got away. If I had never did what I did, you wouldn't have been born."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I can't wait to see the woman who makes my mother behave like a teenager."

My mother chuckled and shook her head. "Xander was amazing, Lizzy. She was kind, loving, and so soft. We had something special. And if anything starts now, I wouldn't stop it."

I made a playful face. "Now I really can't wait to meet this Xander. Is she here?"

Her smile grew even wider. "Good that you're here then because she's coming tomorrow for lunch. I'm getting her at the airport"

"Wow, that's a blast from the past." I said and she kissed my cheek and walked to the kitchen singing. I was left laughing alone.

I was eager to meet the woman who had once captured my mother's heart. There was something exciting about seeing a new side of my mom, a side I had never known existed. Of course, I always knew my mom was bisexual but she has never talked about a woman this way, she has only told me that she was serious with two men. My dad and the idiotic ex that came after him. Other than that, she's just had her share of fun. But Xander seemed to have been different and I understood why she didn't tell me about her. Mom was 19 when she got me, they must have been teenagers when they started dating. Oh God, I hope I wasn't the reason for their break up.

 The following day I helped mom prepare as soon as we woke up, she hummed a cheerful tune, and I couldn't help but tease her about it.

"You seem extra happy today, Mom," I said, setting the table.

"Well, it's not every day you reconnect with an old flame," she replied, her eyes twinkling.

My mother was a whirlwind of nerves and excitement, flitting about the kitchen as she tried to finish up the mashed potatoes and get ready to pick Xander up from the airport. Watching her worry about every tiny detail, I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"Mom, you need to calm down," I said, stepping in her path to stop her frantic movements. "Go to the airport. I'll handle the rest of the cooking."

"But there's so much to do," she protested, glancing around the kitchen as if the task list was overwhelming. "I need everything to be perfect."

"It will be perfect," I assured her, gently pushing her towards the door. "Go. I'll finish everything up here. Trust me."

She hesitated for a moment, "I just removed the towels by the pool, I have to put clean ones and extra in case we go outside."

I rolled my eyes, "I can do that too, now can you please leave."

She sighed but then nodded, a look of relief crossing her face. "Okay, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure Jesus! Why are you acting like we are preparing a fist for God?" I said firmly. "Now go, or you'll be late and keep her waiting. And we don't want to keep a lady waiting now, do we?"

As she left, I found myself smiling at her excitement. It was endearing to see her so invested in impressing this Xander woman. I got to work in the kitchen, happily preparing everything for lunch. The thought of cooking for my mom's ex-girlfriend was amusing and made me chuckle.

Once everything was ready, I decided to call Lena. "You won't believe how my mom is acting over her ex," I said when she picked up. "She's a bundle of nerves over this woman."

Lena laughed. "If it was Alex, you'd probably be the same way."

I felt a pang in my chest at the mention of Alex but tried to brush it off. "Not funny, Lena."

"Sorry," she said, quickly backtracking. "Is it too soon?"

I sighed, but then I laughed as soon as I saw a smile creep on her face. She was awful. "Maybe a little. But it's okay. I'll survive."

After hanging up with Lena, I decided to take a dip in the pool. The water was cool and refreshing, a perfect escape from the chaos of the morning. As I swam, I let my mind drift, enjoying the peacefulness.

I was halfway through another lap when the familiar sound of a car pulling into the driveway filled me with a sense of unease. I couldn't explain why, but my heart began to race, and a knot formed in my stomach. The idea of meeting someone who had my mom so giddy was simultaneously amusing and embarrassing. I hoped my mom wouldn't embarrass me in front of her friend and ex-lover.

But my embarrassment quickly turned to panic when I realized there were no towels by the pool. I cursed under my breath, frustrated with myself for forgetting to bring clean towels outside. My mom took the other ones inside and begged me to put clean ones. I knew I forgot to do something, just didn't realize it was this.

With a sinking feeling, I realized I would have to go inside with my dripping bikini and pass by them. Way to go, it seemed like I was going to embarrass myself way before my mom could.

Reluctantly, I climbed out of the pool and spotted a glass lying nearby. Determined to avoid any further mishaps, I reached for it, only to bang my finger painfully against its rim. I winced in pain, my mind already imagining a big scar forming. Clutching the glass tightly, I made my way towards the house, trying to ignore the throbbing in my finger.

As I approached the doorway, I could hear my mother's voice inside, talking animatedly about something. I rolled my eyes at the mention of my full name – Elizabeth. I hated it when my mom used my full name; it always made me feel like I was in trouble.

I was hoping to slip past unnoticed, but my luck ran out when my mom called out to me. "Hey, honey..."

I froze in my tracks, my heart pounding in my chest. Slowly, I turned around to face my mom, dreading what she was about to say. "Hey, we're back," she said, her tone filled with exasperation. "Oh my God, Elizabeth Adams, tell me why you don't have a towel on you. Why are you dripping inside the house?"

Trust my mom to yell at a 29-year-old like she was talking to a 9-year-old misbehaving child. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could say anything, my gaze drifted past my mother and landed on the person standing behind her, her ex. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible.

My heart plummeted as our eyes met, and I felt the glass I was holding slip from my grasp, shattering into a million pieces on the floor. It was like seeing a ghost, and in a way, maybe we were both ghosts of that unforgettable night in Paris. It couldn't be her!

But there she was, looking at me with wide eyes, just as shocked as I was. God! Was she my mom`s Xander? It couldn`t be Alex. The woman I had met in Paris, the woman I had shared an unforgettable night with. The woman I couldn't stop thinking about.

A whirlwind of emotions washed over me – shock, disbelief, confusion, and a twinge of something else, something deeper. How could this be happening? How could Alex, the woman I thought I had left behind in Paris, be standing here in my mother's living room, how is she my mother's friend? How is she her ex?

"Elizabeth!!" finally my mother's voice kicked me back to my surroundings. I felt a bit dizzy and disoriented. I lifted my leg to move but felt hands behind me stop me. My heart raced as Alex's scent hit me hard, her hands gently guided me away from the broken glass, her touch sending shivers down my spine. Despite everything, I couldn't deny the familiarity of her touch, the way it made me feel both comforted and unsettled at the same time. The way she smelled. It was exactly the same as that first day I laid my eyes on her.

I felt myself being gently pushed to a nearby mat, the events unfolding around me in a surreal blur. My mother appeared with a broom to sweep up the glass, her concern evident in her furrowed brow.

But it was Alex's voice that cut through the haze, her words drawing my attention back to the present. "Miranda, her hand is bleeding," she said, her tone urgent.

I glanced down at my hand and noticed the trickle of blood, staining my palm crimson. A pang of guilt washed over me as I realized I had made a mess of things once again and ruined a day my mother wanted to be perfect. "I'll clean it up. I'm sorry, mom," I managed to mumble, my voice barely above a whisper.

My mother's expression softened, her eyes filled with understanding. For a brief moment, I thought she could see the turmoil raging inside me, the conflicting emotions that threatened to overwhelm me. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't mean to yell at you. I just..." she trailed off, her voice tinged with regret.

But before she could finish her sentence, Alex intervened, her touch gentle yet insistent as she took hold of my injured hand. I pulled away instinctively, the sudden contact sending a jolt of fear coursing through me. "I'll... I'll go wash up. I'm sorry I ruined…this," I stammered, my voice trembling with emotion before leaving them both there.

This was not happening; my Alex was not my mother's high school sweetheart!