“Where did you get that?” She made it sound as though he’d gone Dumpster diving. They both knew from where he’d purchased his soup and sandwich.
“The café at Books and Bakery.”
“Doreen Fever has her own son to take care of. She doesn’t need to feed mine.” Jealousy bit into Ethel’s words.
She began unpacking the basket. Darius swallowed a sigh. He spun his chair back to his monitor, then pressed a couple of keys to save his work. Nothing less than his full attention would appease his mother now.
Plastic containers filled with salad and pasta covered Darius’ story notes. Ethel placed a thermos beside the dishes and unwrapped bread.
She offered him an apple and a banana. “I couldn’t remember which you preferred.”
He’d never liked either fruit, but this wasn’t a good time to remind his mother of that. “I’ll take the apple. Thank you.”
“For what?” She shoved the apple at him. “You’ve already eaten.”
The next few minutes were critical. His mother thought nothing of punishing innocent people for her disappointments. Her reaction to Noah was an example of this. Darius didn’t want Ethel taking out her resentment about lunch on Doreen.
“The meal looks wonderful, Mom.” He took the apple from her hand. He’d offer it to Jackson later. “You obviously went to a lot of trouble. Thank you. It’s going to be a long day. I’d like to save your meal for dinner.”
Instantly, Ethel’s scowl disappeared. “That’s a good idea.” She wrinkled her nose at the soup and sandwich that comprised Darius’s lunch. “You’ll probably be hungry again in a couple of hours.”
No, he wouldn’t. Doreen’s cooking seemed light but would stick to his ribs until this evening. After one of her lunches, he wouldn’t need as big a dinner as Ethel had prepared. Again, not information he’d share with his mother—right now—if ever.
Darius considered Ethel’s satisfied expression as she repacked the picnic basket for him. What was behind her unprecedented mothering? Darius glanced around his cubicle. It wasn’t the ideal location for such a personal and personally dangerous mission. But this couldn’t wait.
“How are you adjusting to being on your own now that Dad’s moved out of the house?”
“He didn’t move out.” The storm clouds returned. “I threw that cheating snake out on his ass.”
OK. Well, that was much more restrained than he’d anticipated. “Now you have more time to dedicate to things you’ve always wanted to do. You can put yourself first instead of tending to Dad. Or worrying about me.”
“What does that mean?” Ethel’s dark eyes narrowed. “You prefer Doreen’s cooking to mine?”
How had she made that leap?
“What I mean is you can pursue your own interests. I can take care of myself, Mom.” He’d been doing so for decades.
“Oh, really? Well, then, I won’t go to the trouble of cooking meals for you, and you won’t have to go to the trouble of eating them.” She collected the picnic basket from his desk. You can just keep filling your face with Doreen Fever’s cooking.”
Darius stood, putting a detaining hand on Ethel’s shoulder. He should have anticipated his mother’s scorched-earth response. “I never said I preferred Doreen’s cooking to yours. This isn’t a competition. And I never said I wasn’t going to eat the meal you cooked.”
“Then what did you mean, Darius?” She raised her chin to a combative angle.
Her eyes demanded he beg her forgiveness. He just wanted this emotional torture to end, preferably without innocent victims.
“I meant exactly what I said.” Darius rubbed his eyes. “If you’re bored without Dad—”
“I’m not bored without Simon. What makes you think that?”
“The fact you packed my lunch.” He gestured toward the picnic basket. “You haven’t done that since I was five.”
They locked gazes for several tense moments. Darius wasn’t backing down. If she wanted to take out her anger and resentment for Simon on him, then fine. She’d been doing that even before he was old enough to understand it. But he didn’t want her blaming Doreen for anything.
Ethel lowered her eyes. She placed the repacked picnic basket back on his desk. “If you want my dinner, you can have it. I’ll try not to trouble you in the future.”
“Thank you.” Darius masked his relief.
“I’ll leave you alone now.” Ethel left his cubicle with her head held high.