Author's Note: Inspired by a new Culture Club song, Let Somebody Love You. The vibe of the song is very young, innocent, flirtatious but very direct: let someone love you. I received a link from the band Culture Club, and it is available on Sound Cloud. Yes, I am a huge Culture Club fan.

I listen to music while writing, and I always make it a policy to cite the song and the source for inspiration. The reason is in case my work is ever used and the person wonders where I received an inspiration/idea. I always want to be specific and explicit on the scenery and sound. Also, writers have a responsibility to maintain a honor code. It is why I always make note of everything I cite and write. Thank you.


"Only for Emily…"

Suzanne Gibbs muttered as she pulled onto the main street and parked beside the home. As promised, she stopped at Yellow Star and picked up the brownies. She preferred Bullseye, minutes away from work for shopping the 'short list,' such as toiletries, eco-friendly cleaning products and Fred's canine treats. Of the two, the Star baked fresh desserts; the President even raved their brownies as 'the best—second to Linda Person's!' The main drawback: constant and consistent foot traffic! The lower prices forced local businesses in the community to close their doors, whereas Bullseye corporate sponsored local products and producers into franchised stores.

As a result, Suzanne was about 15 minutes behind schedule. From observing alone, it was good timing. Emily and Chris stood underneath the tree, the two kissing passionately as walkers looked curiously. His hands were affixed to her waist, his lanky body leaned against hers.

"Really?!" Suzanne muttered. She emerged from the dark SUV, transitional glasses on, carrying her purse on a shoulder and a grocery bag in her hand.

Alright, Fornell. Suzanne thought. If it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck...maybe... Suzanne was not convinced that Emily was sexually active.

"Heh. Hi." Emily stuttered, only for Suzanne to respond back in the same manner.

"Where's your Karmann Ghia, Aunt Suzanne?"

"I'm six months pregnant. I'm driving an SUV now, Emily." Suzanne replied.

"Let me help you with that, Mrs. Gibbs." Christopher suggested.

"Oh, Son, your hands were quite full a moment ago…" Suzanne unlocked the deadbolt door, greeted but warned the barking Labrador retriever not to jump, and walked inside the kitchen. Fred allowed Emily into the home with Suzanne but growled at the young man from entering beyond the foyer.

"Chris, please get the groceries from the hatch?" Suzanne asked.

An awkward silence filled the room between Emily and Suzanne.

"It's not what it looks like, Aunt Susie."

"We'll discuss that, later." Suzanne's motherly instinct kicked in, which surprised both women. Meanwhile, she went through her routine—opening the back door, calling Fred for play time, stirring and checking the crock pot, and putting away groceries.

"By the way, you should wear your hair down…" It was a subtle yet humiliating hint for Emily. There was a visible passion mark on her neck.

Chris returned inside and into the kitchen with the rest of the items.

"I locked your car too, Mrs. Gibbs."

"Thank you." Suzanne said, continuing to prepare the final ingredients for dinner.

"It's finally a pleasure meeting you." Christopher extended his hand for a handshake. "I've heard great things about you from Emily and been reading about your interesting career."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Christopher." Suzanne laughed with that subtle wickedness. Eventually, she shook his hand. "But, I like your generosity and sincerity. I'll give you that, Slick." She smiled.

"Any advice or words of wisdom to offer a man like me?"

Man? What 'man' would maul a 15 year old in broad daylight?!

"I have advice for everyone." Suzanne paused, scribbled on a piece of paper her work ethic. "I've had this quote on my desk since my senior year of high school."

"We must adjust to changing times and still hold to unchanging principles."

"Jimmy Carter." Emily explained. "That's Aunt Suzanne's favorite quote."

"It comes down to life decisions. We can accept change to the political landscape, but it does not necessarily mean that the landscape will ever become equal in everyone's eyes. Industrialized civilizations and nations remain accountable for restoration and the reorganization of basic human rights and decency—economic, religious and social justice—to those denied in the past."

"Are you writing a book?"

"A speech, actually." Suzanne said, back turned, preparing Fred's food bowl for dinner. Chris watched her, still juggling several different tasks at once. The blonde-coat dog happily strolled into the house and to his bowl. The landline chimed—indicating Jethro.

"She's listening…" Emily commented. "That's Aunt Susie every day."

"I'm speaking at an engagement for the Human Rights Coalition of Greater Washington." Suzanne answered in a whispered. "I'm not comfortable speaking at conventions, but I can organize them!" Suzanne answered, caught Jethro up to speed to the evening's festivities. Obviously, Chris' name was not mentioned.

"In an hour? Okay. I love you too." She smiled. "Bye."

"Well, it sounds good so far." Christopher believed. Emily nodded with agreement. Simply, Suzanne nodded once, signifying a thanks of support. She continued walking about the kitchen in preparation for dinner.

"My folks are expecting me for dinner at 6:30, so I better go." Chris announced. He asked Emily if she needed a ride home.

"Oh, Emily's spending the night." Suzanne interrupted. "Jethro and I haven't seen our girl in a while…"

"Oh, of course…"

"Aunt Suzanne, I don't…" Emily remembered.

"I bought you a bunch of clothes when I shopped in Europe for the girls? It's all upstairs."

"I'm walking Chris to the door. Okay?"

"Make sure that's all you do…" Suzanne muttered, continued working in the kitchen.

"Your aunt is funny."

"She's a straight shooter…"

"You can call Emily tomorrow afternoon, okay?" Suzanne stated, opening the kitchen service window area. "I'm going to take her to the office for a few hours." The window remained opened, she carefully and deliberately watched their parting ways. It was much tamer—a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

"Bye, Mrs. Gibbs."

"Bye, Christopher…"

Emily returned into the kitchen, sat quietly at the table, smiled. Suzanne, meanwhile, chuckled as she washed her hands and joined the 15 year old at the opposite side of the table.

"You know he's just trying to get your goodies…"

"Aunt Susie, it's not what it looks like…" Emily, once again, tried to convince Suzanne.

"Please! That's some of the maneuvers your uncle used to get me pregnant!" She scoffed, rubbing her stomach. The conversation was interrupted by her work-related cellphone. She glanced at the number—'Office' in bold letters. She placed it on the counter, prioritizing Emily as first.

"Aunt Susie, Chris said that he loves me..."

"Sweetie, we need to talk." Suzanne sighed. Again, the cellphone chimed; it was work and the President. Damn.

"Let me take this call." Suzanne stepped in the other room. "I'll be five minutes, tops. I promise."