When I walked up to her, feeling a little shy, she seemed surprised to see me. “Jason? Holy cow! You’re taller than me! Oh my god! You’ve gone and grown up!” she said. I smiled at her, realizing it was true; I was now an inch taller than her. “Hi mom.” “Come ‘ere, give me a hug sweety,” she said, holding out her arms. I wrapped my arms around her. I smelled the familiar scent of her hair, sweet, and fruity. Right away, I felt a rush of memories, like a spark of static electricity. And something else. Something…I don’t know. I felt my heart racing for a second, and my head swimming. “Well…welcome to California, heh, come on, let’s get your stuff in the car. We can grab a bite to eat on our way home.” We got my bags loaded into her car, and sat as we drove down the expressway. We chatted a little, trying to make small talk. It was a little tricky. Mom and Dad got divorced when I was six, and I’ve lived with Dad ever since. I’ve seen Mom a couple a times a year for ten years, but we’ve. Don’t screw it! She scolded herself. The 5′ 4′ dark haired girl took a deep breath to steady herself. She watched for the director’s cue. When she saw his hand signal, she walked on to the stage with her black pinafore and a white apron holding a tray with the usual mock-up stage props of tea sets. She set the tray down on the low table, ‘Would Madame want some tea?’ She asked of the leading actress. The leading actress, Sonja gave a curt nod indicating a yes and she began to pour the make-believe tea into the cup. Sonja daintily reached out for the tea and pretended to drink it when she shrieked and threw the cup down. ‘What is this? You call this tea? It’s cold and diluted! I can never depend on you to do anything right, can I?’ With this said Sonja make a show to slap Aida but only it was for real. Palms connected with her soft cheeks, which she knew, would leave a print there for at least two days. ‘CUT!’ shouted the director. ‘That was excellent Sonja. Good work. Everyone take.
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