Chapter 4 A Strong Masculine Presence

Chapter 4 A Strong Masculine Presence
It was only when I was a few paces down the hallway that I realized just how warm and flustered I had become. In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face until I finally calmed down.
What was it about Malcolm that was having such a strong effect on me? Was it just because he was dating my mother after she'd been single for so long? Or was it because Malcolm was such a strong masculine presence, something I'd had so little experience with in recent years?
Either way, I considered dashing off to my old bedroom to change into something nicer, but then I decided that it would be more embarrassing to have to explain why I'd ditched my reindeer sweater after they'd both seen me wearing it.
Realizing I was stuck with it, I put on a brave face and then marched into the dining room, determined to be calm and collected on the outside even if I was feeling like a wreck inside.
Malcolm was sitting alone at the table, my mother in the kitchen, and he watched me impassively as I pulled out a chair and sat down.
When I looked around, I saw that all of the plates and silverware were unfamiliar, my mom's old floral pattern set replaced by elegant looking china rimmed with gold filigree that shimmered in the light of the candle in the center of the table.
A moment later, my mom bustled through the door, bearing a tray of food. As she began laying out a veritable feast, I couldn't help but notice that the glassware was new as well, including a water tumbler and a wine glass that looked almost paper thin.
Even the napkin on the side of my plate was made out of some fine brocaded material, and when I unfolded it and laid it across my lap, it almost felt like it was genuine silk.
"Here we are," said my mother as she arranged a few side dishes into position before taking her seat.
"Wow, looks great, Mom!" I said, my stomach rumbling.
After months of surviving on ramen noodles and cafeteria food, the spread before me looked irresistably appetizing.
I was about to dig in when Malcolm cleared his throat, and then my mother smiled and said, "Let us say grace, shall we?"
Feeling like a complete fool, I set down my fork and bowed my head. With just me and my mom on our own for so many years, we'd never been the type to say grace, although we'd done it occasionally when a visitor would come over. Once again, I'd completely embarrassed myself in front of Malcolm.
"Amen," I muttered once my mother concluded her prayer, and this time I waited until the two of them began eating before going to town on the caramelized roast potatoes, one of my favorite dishes.
Trying not to look like the starving refugee I kind of was, I listened as my mother and Malcolm discussed their trip to New York City. Apparently, that's where she got all the plates and glassware that we were using.
According to Malcolm, he'd taken her to a department store on Fifth Avenue where she'd "fallen in love" with the setup they had on display, so he'd purchased the whole lot and had it shipped here to the house.
Everything was going fine until my mother stood up and went to the kitchen to bring in dessert. My belly was full, and I felt a lot more relaxed after having gotten a bit more accustomed to the idea that my mother was now dating someone.
That is why I was completely unprepared for what happened next, which was Malcolm reaching under the table and casually resting his hand on my upper thigh.
Shocked, I looked over at him, expecting some kind of explanation, but he just stared at me. At first, I was outraged, but as his hand remained exactly where it was, I felt a strange tingling sensation begin to build somewhere deep inside of me.
I had no idea what was going on, but that single incident marked the beginning of my strange and tumultous relationship with Malcolm Kent.