She pulled the sheet across the mattress, tugging it tight and smoothing out the wrinkles with her palms. Together we spread a navy fleece blanket out, plumping pillows in silence and folding the quilt down.

"How about some tea?" She asked me. I nodded, a silent agreement to a mother who had been mostly silent to me my whole life.

We sat together at the table. I hooked my ankles around the bars on my chair, my fingers tracing the lip of the mug. My mother looked at me for several minutes. Her staring began to make me nervous.

Finally, she spoke. "I missed you."

What do I say to that? The only thing I could. "I missed you, too."

We sat in silence, staring at each other over the curve of our cups.

"What happened with your father?"

"I... I'm not really sure. His politics..." It's the only thing I knew to say. It clearly was enough. My mother pursed her lips, looking quite displeased.

"I knew he never should have been involved with all of that." She looked troubled, her brow furrowed. She looked up. "Tyd, I'm really sorry. I should have had you come here before. I talked to your father just weeks ago, and he told me things were getting serious. You should have come then, when your father could still see you off. You would have been much safer then."

I pondered this. I was unsafe? Whatever my father was involved in caused my travel to be unsafe? "Mummy-do you mean that there were people there that could have hurt me?" I tried to figure it out.

"Maybe, honey. Don't worry. You are safe here." She smiled, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "I haven't seen you in so long! How about a pajama party tonight?"

I sighed, smiling. My mother still believed me to be a child. "Sure Mum, I'd like that."

We drove to a video rental store nearby, and we spent half an hour trying to pick out a movie that we could watch. I saw several that looked good. My mother wouldn't let me get anything Rated R. I wanted to laugh. She should see some of the things I'd seen back home!

We settled on Meet the Parents. The drive back home was loud with laughing and bad jokes. My mother has the worst sense of humor. Her idea of a good joke is, "Why did the chicken cross the road? Answer-because he wanted to!" Still, I had to laugh. She tried so hard.

Back at her house, I went into the guest bedroom to change into my pajamas. The guest bedroom. The name of the room stuck in my head. I guess now it's my bedroom. I looked critically at the walls. If it were really to be my own bedroom, it would need some serious work. Pink walls, floral border? No way.

I returned to the den, where Mummy was just getting to. She carried a bowl of popcorn and a bag of M&Ms. We flopped down on the sofa, sitting a safe distance from each other, trying to sit like mother and daughter, sitting instead like strangers.

I ripped open the M&Ms, eating only the brown and red ones. I'd suck on them until the candy part was gone, then chew the chocolate. We watched the movie, laughing at the appropriate times, but neither of us really paying attention to it. My thoughts were mostly on my father.

Was he safe? What was really happening to him? I was scared for him, scared for me, too.

My mother seemed to read my mind. She reached over and hugged me.

"I'm glad you're here." She told me. Her eyes sought out mine. I knew she was being honest. I smiled at her.

"What's going to happen?" She looked thoughtful.

"I don't know. Whatever happens, though, I'll be here. I'll make sure you're safe. And I'll try to get in touch with your father, make sure he's safe, too," A pause, "Tyd, I love you. It might be fun, you living here, right? I know I might not be the most conventional mother, but I think we can make it work."

"I love you too."

The movie's laugh track droned in the background.



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There's more to come-just wait. I'm just having BAD writer's block. If you've got any idea's of how to go with this, please give me suggestions!