"So what was the problem?" she went on. "The food? Did that Linda Clarke feed you—"
"Enough." He held up his hands. The only way to get her to stop badgering him was to tell her. He sighed. "It's Maddie. She was there."
"Linda's sister? I thought you liked her. You went on a date with her yesterday."
"Yeah, I like her. She doesn't like me."
His mother shot up and stood ram-rod straight. She leaned forward slightly and placed her knuckles on the table. "How can she not like you! You're handsome, healthy, rich and you have all your own hair. What more would a woman want?" She shook her head and sat with a thud. She stared down at the table as if looking for answers on the spotless surface. "That's just ridiculous. Not like my Sammy? No," she muttered. "No, no, no. Not possible. All the girls like you. They always have. When you were a boy, I used to hang up on them all the time."
"You hung up on girls who called me? Mum!"
She waved her hand. "Only the ones I didn't like. Anyway I haven't done it in years."
"That's because I haven't lived here in years." He rubbed his jaw and closed his eyes. His life was disintegrating. His mother was more out of control than he remembered. Maybe he should go back to Sydney. At least that city didn't have his mother in it. Or Maddie.
Then again, maybe not.
"I think it's time I moved out," he said. "Get my own place."
"But you just got back. Can't you stay here a little longer?" She came around the table and touched his face with both hands. "It's been lovely having you home again. The house has missed you. I've missed you."
He sighed again. The woman was the world champion of emotional blackmail. "We're cramping each other's style, Mum. Just yesterday you said you were having a friend over, but when I came home early you changed your mind."
She straightened, a forced smile frozen on her lips. "Don't worry about me, Sammy, you just go about your business like this is your home again."
Just like his mother, avoiding the real issue. Which confirmed his suspicions that her friend was a man.
"Mum, I'm thirty-two. I need to have my own place and so do you. Besides, I've lived on my own for fifteen years and living here makes me feel like a kid again."
She looked at him blankly and gave a small shrug as if to say "So?".
"I need my space," he said.
"So you can have women over?"
"So you can have men over."
She spluttered something he couldn't make out and disappeared into the kitchen. He felt like saying "Gotcha", but didn't think she'd find it funny, so he let it slide.
He drummed his fingers on the table. At least his mother was dating again. That was definitely a good sign. Maybe. But what if it was serious? What did he do for a living? Was he an axe murderer? What were his intentions towards—
Ugh, he was turning into her—always prying and thinking the worst. Now he knew why she screened his dates first. But he'd never hang up on her boyfriends, and he would approve more of her dates than she ever had. He couldn't remember bringing a single girl home that she'd liked. Which made her approval of Maddie so much more amazing. Not that he needed her approval, but it was nice to finally have it.
Except Maddie wanted nothing to do with him. How the hell could he change that? Short of begging, he was all out of options, and he didn't think begging would work on her. Not that she was heartless, just stubborn.
He smiled, remembering the way she'd refused to jump into the lake with him. Stubborn all right, but damn hot too.
His mother returned, a plate of scones in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. He groaned. "Mum, I'm not a kid."
"Everyone needs their calcium," she said with a sniff, "including thirty-two year old men." She placed the plate and glass in front of him. "Now, tell me why Maddie Clarke doesn't like my boy. What did you do?"
"Nothing!" He frowned. "And since when is it my fault? Before, you said—"
"I know what I said, but now that I've had time to think about it, I realized you must have said something to upset her. Perhaps she's jealous. Women always liked you, and if she saw you with—"
"She's not jealous." Was she? No, not possible. He hadn't shown interest in anyone else while he'd been with her. He wasn't interested in anyone else.
"You must have done something. Sensible girls like Maddie Clarke don't break up with boys like you for no reason."
"Boys like me?"
"Yes. You know the sort." She eyed him beneath blue-shadowed lids. "Always getting into trouble, talking back to the teachers and parents. Girls always like those kind of boys. Even the sensible girls. And you were such a rebellious boy, and she was such a sweet girl."