Married (Chapter 12, Story 1)

"Oh! Excuse me, sir!" Hilda exclaimed, seeing the large form looming in front of her was a human being. "Mom?" "I'm sorry?" Hilda looked up into the man's face and realized that he was none other than her own son, James. "James!" She enveloped him in a hug. "Oh, James! Your father and I have been so, so worried about you! Where have you been?" "In jail, obviously," the policeman behind the desk muttered. James scowled at him. "Come on, James. This place makes me feel ill. Let's talk outside." Rain was pouring from a dismal gray sky outside the station. Hilda pulled a small umbrella from her handbag and attempted to cover herself and her son with it. She wasn't tall enough to shield her son from the rain, so he held the umbrella instead. "James, why were you in jail? Do you still live here in Scottsdale? Do you still work at the Institute? Why have you been ignoring your father and I for so long?" Hilda wiped at the tears that had begun to leak from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mom. I really am. Things just got a little crazy and it was best for me to leave you and Dad out of the whole mess." "But, son, maybe we could have helped you!" "No," James replied, shaking his head. "There was nothing you two could do. Nothing anyone could do, actually." "Well, I suppose all that matters now is that I've found you again. You can come home with me and we'll have a nice big supper, with all your favorite foods. Your father will be so happy to see you. He's missed you so much." "No, Mom, I can't do that." "Why not?" "Because I have my own home now." Hilda studied her son's face. He had lines around his eyes and on his forehead. His skin had a grayness to it she didn't remember, and his hair stood up in greasy spikes all over his head, as if he hadn't washed it in a while. "Of course, son. How silly of me. You're an independent young man now. You would have your own home." "Yes. And there's something else." James hesitated. "I'm...married." Hilda blinked. "I'm sorry, you're what?" "Married, Mom, I'm married." "Well when did this happen? How could you get married without informing your father and I?" "It wasn't really planned. It was sort of a crazy, spur of the moment thing. Nobody knew." "Well I suppose there's no use in crying over spilled milk. What's her name?" "Karen. She's great, Mom. Really great. I think you'd like her." Hilda tried to smile and patted her son's arm. "Of course I will son. When can I meet her?" "Well I...I don't know, Mom." "What do you mean you don't know? How about Saturday?" "Mom, Karen isn't really much for company these days because she's...pregnant. "James, you're expecting a child? My grandchild?" "Yeah." Hilda sniffed. She hated not knowing the latest news, and the fact that her son had managed to get married to the woman who was carrying her grandchild upset her. "Well, if that's the case, I most definitely have to meet her. And see your house. I won't take no for an answer, James! Where do you live?" James sighed, knowing there was no way to persuade his mother once she had set her mind to something. He scribbled his address on the back of a receipt. "Thank you. I will be there at five o' clock on Saturday. And I will bring your father." After exchanging a quick hug and a final goodbye, the two parted.