Only You by Jerry Cole (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

When she released him, Sherman took a series of long, deep breaths as a means to remain standing and not pass out. “You must be... Bradley’s... mother,” he managed.

“The one and only. But you can call me Ms. Miles. Or mom, if you like.” Her smile was huge and she looked down at Sherman with such love that one might have thought this was their hundredth time meeting... not their first.

In a way it was a relief. At least it meant that Bradley hadn’t spent the week bad mouthing him. “All right... mom.”

This did the trick. In an effort to not burst into tears, Bradley’s mother shuffled Sherman into the house and closed the door behind him. Then, she ordered him toward the kitchen. He made sure to move quickly, as he suspected that she might just pick him up and carry him if he dawdled.

“So, Bradley is still sleeping?” Sherman asked as he looked around the house for signs of his boyfriend. There were plenty of pictures of him of course, most from his youth, but no indications that he was here right now.

“I’m so glad you came.” Bradley’s mother had the kettle in hand and hurried to the sink to fill it with water. “Bradles might act all tough, but I know he’s missed you.”

“I’ve missed him too,” Sherman assured her. “What time does he usually wake up —”

“Coffee dear?” she indicated to the kettle, now plugged in and slowly reaching a boil.

“Oh, yeah. Thanks.”

“Great!” she beamed and she hurriedly started making them a coffee each. It was a whirlwind experience, the way she flew through the kitchen as she did so. “Me, personally, I can’t start my day without one. When I was your age, I used to have four a day – four! Can you believe that?” she shook her head to herself.

“That’s a lot of coffee.”

Sherman didn’t want to be rude. Especially seeing as this was his first-time meeting Bradley’s mother. But the way she was purposefully ignoring his questions, the manner in which she danced about the kitchen without a care in the world, was starting to irritate him.

“I was a different woman back then,” she continued as she poured the boiling water into the coffee mugs. “I don’t need to tell you – here you are, dear.” She pushed the coffee toward him.

“Thanks,” Sherman offered. He went to take a sip, but it was too hot. “So, Bradley? He’s still upstairs sleeping?”

“I have to say too, I’m glad I finally got a chance to meet you, dear – and I know, I know, with Covid it was all but impossible. But still, mothers. Right?” she chuckled to herself.

“They are something,” Sherman tried. He took a sip of his coffee now, waiting for Bradley’s mother to continue. When she didn’t, he dared to try again. “Would you mind if I just go upstairs and —”

“Not that I haven’t been bugging him about it anyhow,” she tittered. “The boy is as stubborn as me though. Anytime I mentioned it, he’d hang up the phone!”

Sherman gave up. For whatever reason – he assumed it was because she wanted to get to know him – Bradley's mother was being purposefully obtuse. It appeared that his only option was to wait until Bradley woke up. Lucky that Bradley’s mother was being so loud that he figured it wouldn’t be long.

So, he waited... and waited... and then waited a little longer. As he did so, Bradley’s mother chatted away merrily without a care in the world. There was no theme to the conversation, except to see how much could be said in as little time as possible.

After fifteen more minutes of this, Sherman decided it was time to try again. His coffee was finished, it was nearing 7am and he really, really wanted to speak to Bradley.

“Ms. Miles,” Sherman started. Bradley’s mother looked down her nose at him. “I mean, mom,” he corrected. “I would really love to speak with Bradley, sooner rather than later.”

“I bet you would!”

“Do you mind if I sneak into his room and wake him up – I’ll make sure to let him know you tried to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t do that, dear!” she looked almost insulted. “You’re free to go in all you like. But it won’t do you much good.”

Sherman was halfway out of his chair before he caught that last bit. “Huh? Why not?”

“Because,” she blinked a few times. “Bradley isn’t home.”

Sherman’s face dropped. “What?!” he shouted that, although it wasn’t on purpose. “What do you mean —”

“He’s in Sydney, dear. Flew in last night to see you. My guess is that the two of you must have missed one another – you can imagine my utmost surprise when I opened the door this morning to find you standing there, looking at me like a pelican. Deary me.” She tittered and shook her head at the memory.

As for Sherman? He didn’t know how to react. A part of him was furious; at Bradley’s mother for having carried on all morning knowing full well that Bradley wasn’t home and also at himself for not being home right now where Bradley almost certainly was. What was he doing here?!

Lucky then that there was also a part of him that was dancing for joy. The fact that Bradley had gone home to speak with him... surely, that was a good thing.

“I... I have to go!” Sherman was halfway across the room before Bradley’s mother intercepted him.

“I don’t think so.” She blocked his way like a brick wall.

“Huh?” Sherman balked. “But I —”

“Have to speak with my son, yes.”

“Right.” He waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, “How am I supposed to do that when —”

“It’s called a