When a stranger calls.

The unexpected can be pleasant, a phone call from a friend, flowers from the person you would least expect them from, finding a twenty-dollar bill when you thought you were broke. This wasn’t pleasant, it was downright painful and I wanted it to be over.

Dylan was sleeping peacefully in his bassinet in the family room and I was settling down to watch GH (Yes it's soap and don't fucking ask), when the doorbell rang. At first, I ignored it. Despite the no solicitations sign we were bombarded by salesmen from Kirby Vacuum’s to Brinks home security systems. When it rang again I sat up straightening myself out. I looked like a mother, wearing a track suit and had my hair in one of those damn buns on the top of my head.

Two feet from the door, I had to check my anger when the doorbell rang again. I threw the it open. A woman was standing on the front steps with her head down, her hair once dyed red had faded to sickly orange color. I waved my hand in front of my face trying to disperse the swirl of cigarette smoke.

“May I help you?”

When the woman looked up, Jesus. She looked awful, deep lines creased her once beautiful face and the warm brown pools that were her eyes were milky and cold.

“Aren’t you going to hug me?”

I dutiful reached out my arms and hugged her, keeping my body as far away from as possible.

“Hi mama.”

I settled her into the living room where no one ever sat. I didn’t know if she knew anything about Dylan—if by some miracle she didn’t know I didn’t want her to find out. I brought her a glass of water, told her stay put and went to the office that was located midway up the stairs.

“Do you want me to come home?”

“No, I am going to have her leave soon.”

“Savannah she is your mother, what are you going to tell her?”

“The truth, that I am busy and I will talk to her tomorrow.”

“What are you busy doing?” I damn near giggled, I couldn’t help it. The sarcasm coming from his voice said he knew worlds about me and my frequent naps since having Dylan.

“Look Savannah, are you sure you don’t want me to come home?”

“Don, I want you to come home.” Silence. I don’t think he could have been more shocked if I had told him to mind his own damn business. I needed him, right now more than anyone or anything I needed in my life.

Dotty was smoking when I came back into the living room. The old impetuous me started making fast strokes back to the forefront of my brain. I pushed her back and walked over to Dotty removing the cigarette from her lips I put it out in the water I have given her earlier.

“This isn’t my house, please don’t smoke.”

“Huh! That’s not what I heard. I heard you got yourself a rich beau.” I smiled as sweetly as possible.

“You heard wrong.”

Then what’s all this, she stood up spinning around. When she started to the family room I started to panic—so I stopped her.

“Mother, what do you want?” I turned my back to her and walked into the dining room then the kitchen. You couldn’t see Dylan from the kitchen, I knew because I kept meaning to move his bassinet, right now I was thankful for being lazy.

Dotty followed like I wanted.

“I just wanted to see you baby.” She reached her hand up and touched my cheek I jumped away from her.

I heard the front door open and nearly burst into tears when I heard Don call out for me.

“Excuse me.” I walked to the front door. Don was calmly standing in the entryway I kissed him and folded into his arms. Dotty was standing behind me, I could feel her eyeing my husband.

“Sugar, does your husband know you are already stepping out on him?”

I turned to look at her.

“I am her husband.” Don walked over to Dotty and shook her hand and introduced himself. I prayed the Dylan was quiet for just few minutes more.

Ten minutes later saw Dotty leaving in a cab with a promise for a longer visit, Don had made my excuses then found me clutching Dylan to my chest, making the poor little guy squirm I was holding on so tight.

“That woman is not my mother.” Don gentle took Dylan and placed him back in his bassinet rubbing his tummy.

Don sat back down next tom me. “Then who is she?”

“I don’t know, but the woman who was my mother abandoned me after my father died—that was just her shell reanimated.”

Don reached out and pulled my chin toward him so I was looking him in the eyes. “That’s pretty deep Savannah.”

When I frowned at him, he smiled. I picked up the nearest pillow and hit him with it. He wrestled me down until I was pinned under him. He stared at me, brushing my hair away from my forehead.

“I’m not going to break.” I said it because I knew he was waiting.

“I know.” He kissed me.