Second Time Around by Nancy Moser Page B

for her daughter to defend herself—not that Vanessa could. She’d never been a good student. “I’ve missed you so much.”
    Vanessa didn’t believe that one. If her mother missed her, wouldn’t she have tried to contact her? Not a card. Not a phone call.
    Her mother plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. She audibly let out one breath before taking another. “So. Are you happy, Nessa?”
    “Sure.”
    “‘Sure’ is the answer of the uncommitted.”
    You want me to jump up and down? These last five years alone with her father had been busy ones, taking care of him. They’d been okay. Fine.
    Okay and fine. Two more words of the uncommitted?
    A reply was needed. Vanessa drew her knees closer to her chest, a barrier between her heart and this woman. “College is awesome.” It was a huge exaggeration but definitely not an uncommitted word.
    Her mother squinted. “Hmm. What’s wrong?”
    At first, all she could do was stare. She wasn’t used to someone reading her. Vanessa could be crying and her father wouldn’t ask that question. Someone else’s emotions were always an imposition to Daddy, so Vanessa had learned to keep them in check. Yet suddenly, crying was a reality. The tears flowed and she bowed her head into her knees.
    Her mother stroked her hair. “Oh my. Oh dear. I see it was no coincidence I passed this way and found you here.”
    Vanessa looked up. “But it was! I didn’t plan to be here. I was heading—”
    Her mother hooked Vanessa’s hair behind an ear. “Heading where?”
    Vanessa got to her feet. “Nowhere. I need to go home.”
    “Oh no, you don’t.” Dorian pushed herself to standing, her feet getting caught in the long skirt of her dress. “I’m not letting you loose just yet. We’re going to lunch.”
    “I can’t. I don’t have time. And it’s not even eleven.”
    “Oh pooh. You are your father’s daughter. Or you were. But today you’re mine, and my philosophy is to eat when there’s reason to eat, not when it’s scheduled or proper. As far as time?” She linked her arm with Vanessa’s. “This is a time of celebration. I’m getting to spend time with my daughter, and nobody, not even your father, can interfere.”
    What’s that supposed to mean? But how could she object? She had nothing better to do.
    Something to do, but certainly not something better.

    Frankie’s Cafe sat directly across from the arches on the edge of campus, catching students—and their dollars—as soon as they hit Broad Street. Vanessa had been there only once because close proximity was all it had to offer. The floor was sticky, the food greasy, and the tables were stained aqua Formica with chrome legs that wobbled. Once had been more than enough.
    And now, entering the student hangout with her mother dressed like an over-the-hill hippie… Vanessa was proud of the clean lines of her own wide pants and belted tunic, her long, straight hair compared to her mother’s frizz-bomb.
    Yet when they walked in the door, the cashier beamed and raised his hand for a high five. “Dorian, baby. The day isn’t complete without your shining face.”
    Her mother smacked his hand, then interlaced her fingers with his and squeezed. “Flattery will get you anywhere, Frankie.” She yanked Vanessa close, claiming her. “I would like you to meet my daughter, Vanessa.”
    Frankie gave her the once-over. “Well, well. This is her, huh?”
    “In the flesh. Isn’t she lovely?”
    “Almost as lovely as you, babe.” He shook Vanessa’s hand. “I’m glad you finally came to your senses and contacted this fine lady, because she—”
    Mother led her away. “Let’s sit.” Over her shoulder she called out, “Two Frescas, Frankie. Lots of ice.”
    Vanessa detested Fresca but didn’t say anything. She was too busy thinking about Frankie’s comment. Her mother had discussed their relationship—or lack thereof—with this stranger?
    They opened their menus as a