Deadly Satisfaction by Trice Hickman Page B

licked his lips. “I’d love to taste them one day.”
    There was a short moment of silence that passed between them. He could see that Donetta wanted to say something, but instead she remained silent. He paid attention to her eyes, which darted around, trying to find a comfortable place to land. Even though he could tell she was unsure of what to do next, it was clear to him that Donetta was just as interested in him as he was in her. He was a decisive man of action, and he didn’t want to stand in the cold hemming and hawing when he knew what he wanted, so he told her. “Donetta, I enjoyed meeting you tonight, and I’d like to get to know you better. I want to see you again. Do you think that’s possible?”
    Donetta looked down and then back up to him. “Anything’s possible.”
    Â 
    Phillip drove back to his mother’s house feeling as though he’d just won a big case. He couldn’t believe he’d been so persistent with Donetta. Normally, he didn’t have to be aggressive in his pursuit of a woman because they flocked to him. But with Donetta, things were different. It wasn’t just her striking beauty and unchecked boldness that made her stand out, it was the fact that she was one of the most genuinely authentic women he’d ever met. She didn’t try to put on an act to impress him, which he found refreshing.
    As he turned into his mother’s driveway, Phillip’s mind went back to the question he’d asked himself back at the restaurant, and was now begging to be answered. What would his mother think of Donetta?
    In all the years that Phillip had been dating, and of all the women he’d been with, what his mother would think of them was a question he’d never really pondered because he’d never had a relationship that he thought was serious enough to consider. But he also recognized the strength and comfort of what it could mean to have the right person by your side.
    After two trips back and forth from the car to the house, Phillip had unloaded all the bags and was now putting the food in the pantry and the refrigerator. He was surprised that his mother hadn’t answered back when he announced that he was home, or that she hadn’t come to help him put things away. He could see that the light was still on in the family room, which meant she was probably so involved in whatever movie or documentary she was watching that she didn’t hear him. He reached into the cabinet and pulled out two dinner plates. “Mom, are you ready to eat?” he called out in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the entire downstairs. She still didn’t answer, so he walked into the family room, where he’d left her sitting earlier this evening.
    Phillip was startled when he surveyed the scene before him. His mother was stretched out on the coach—still wearing her tailored skirt, silk blouse, pantyhose, and jewelry—fast asleep. His eyes roamed over to the empty bottle of wine sitting next to an empty glass. He couldn’t believe she’d drank an entire bottle by herself, let alone that she’d fallen asleep, fully clothed.
    â€œMom,” he said gently. “I’m home.”
    She didn’t move a muscle, and he realized she was out cold. He knelt beside her and gently put his hand on her shoulder. “Mom, I’m going to take you down the hall to your bedroom, so I need you to stand up, okay?” He tried to gently nudge her to help her get up. But instead of rising from the couch, she simply repositioned herself to get more comfortable.
    Phillip knew his mother needed the rest, so he decided to leave her where she was. He walked over to the decorative basket she kept in the corner and retrieved a soft, chenille blanket. He knelt beside her again and gently covered her with the warm throw. He leaned in and kissed her on her forehead, the same way she used to do to him when he was a little boy.