She said her goodbyes to the women, thankful that she didn’t have to reveal much about herself during the short visit. As she watched them walk away and disappear into the mossy trees, she wondered if she’d be able to keep her cover for very long, or would someone recognize her and reveal who she really was.
Dixie stood at the end of the dock and waited for her son’s boat to come back. He’d taken a small group of businessmen on a tour of the marsh, but he said he’d be back in time to meet her for lunch. It was long overdue, and she was looking forward to it.
Of course, she had an ulterior motive, as mothers often did. It was hard for her to see her son making what she thought was a mistake, and she was going to try to say something about it. Whether he appreciated her uninvited input was another question altogether.
She didn’t like to think of herself as a meddler, but as she’d gotten older, she’d come to accept that part of herself. Aging had given her the ability to say what she wanted and just be considered an old woman with no filter between her mouth and brain.
Sometimes, it was refreshing that no one seemed to expect as much from her anymore. Even though she knew she could contribute just as much to society as anyone else, the unfortunate side effect of aging was that people thought you were all washed up at a certain age. It wasn’t true, but she tried to use that stereotype to her advantage when she could.
Finally, she saw William’s boat appear around the last turn of the marsh before his dock. She smiled and waved, and he gave her the same look he did when she showed up at school to pick him up - like she was embarrassing the heck out of him.
The three businessmen stepped out of the boat, thanked William and said hello to Dixie before walking down the path. “Hey, Mom,” he said, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “Been waiting long?”
“Nah, not too bad. Thankful I sprayed myself for mosquitos before I came, though.”
“Yeah, you know how marsh life is. And the no-see-ums are terrible today.”
Many tourists were unprepared for the little annoying and painful flying insects, but locals knew them all too well. They were also known as biting midges, and they would swarm a person without them even realizing it. So tiny that they were almost impossible to see, the person would be left with numerous painful bites. When William was a kid, he called them “flying pirahna”, and that description seemed to fit quite well.
“Ready for something to eat? I’m starving!”
He nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been going full-force all day. Had a fishing charter early this morning, but Janine made me breakfast to-go. My stomach is empty now. Where should we eat?”
Dixie smiled. “Well, I actually made us lunch. I thought maybe we could take a little boat trip?”
William stared at her. “Mom, I’ve been in that boat all day.”
“I haven’t.” Mother guilt was always effective. Truthfully, she wanted this conversation to be as private as possible, but she also wanted to finally take a ride on her son’s boat.
He sighed and hung his head. “Fine. But what did you make?”
“Chicken salad sandwiches on croissants.”
“With pecans or without?”
She furrowed her eyebrows. “With, of course. What kind of woman do you take me for?”
William laughed. “Good. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t cutting corners.”
“Never!”
He helped her onto the boat as she held onto his hand for dear life. She wasn’t as spry as she used to be, and having Parkinson’s had only slowed her down more. Thankfully, the medications and physical therapy helped her preserve what she had, and she tried to exercise at least three days a week since it was supposed to be the most effective treatment for the disease.
Once they got settled, William eased the boat out into the marsh, picking a pretty area with a view of open water. Dixie loved where she lived. There was so much beauty surrounding her from the grasses of the marsh to the waves of the ocean to the historical buildings lining the streets of town. She could never imagine living anywhere else.
Dixie dug the food out of her large bag and handed William his food. They sat for a few moments, each of them taking a bite of their croissant and looking out at the water. It was getting hotter outside with each passing day, and Dixie didn’t relish the humidity that was coming once the summer months arrived. Most days, she tried to stay inside in the air conditioning when summer rolled around. Plus, there were a lot more tourists milling about, so when she wasn’t at work, she wanted to be in her cool home.
William placed his sandwich in his lap, wiped his mouth and looked at his mother. “Okay, out with it, Mom.”
“What?” Dixie said, a mouthful of chicken salad blocking her from saying much else. She widened her eyes so much that she could feel her eyebrows raise an ungodly amount. Surely, he wasn’t buying her fake innocent look.
“I know you brought me out here to talk about something. What is it?”
She wiped her mouth. “Darlin’, I came to eat lunch with my only son and finally take a ride in his boat. Why do you always assume the worst about me? It’s very hurtful, William.”
He chuckled. “I see why you flunked high school theater.”
“That was because Mrs. Calhoun hated me. She was jealous of my hair. I’ll believe that ’til the day I die.”
“Mom.” His firm tone let Dixie know she was treading on thin ice. And after all the years they
