Upon hearing it, Tyrone immediately sensed something was off. He knew his mother, Mrs. York, like the back of his hand. She was deliberately lowering her voice, fearing others might hear, clearly wary of someone. “Mom, what’s going on? Who are you with?”
Mrs. York whispered back, “Don’t worry. Mom’s not going to get you into trouble. I’m just out shopping.”
“Mom, be straight with me. Who are you shopping with? Are you planning to take me out for lunch?”
“It’s not me; someone else is treating.”
Tyrone heard someone calling for Mrs. York over the phone.
“Mrs. York, is the call through? Can Ty make it?”
“It’s through. He’ll come over after work. My son, he always listens to me.”
Tyrone frowned. “Mom, have you run into some trouble?”
But all he got in response was the dial tone.
Seeing Tyrone’s concerned expression, Quintessa asked, “What’s wrong?”
“There might be some trouble with my mom.”
“Should we go now?”
Tyrone glanced at his watch, “There’s still half an hour to go until the end of work. Stick around for a bit. After work, we’ll go to Golden Harvest together.”
“For dinner?”
“I hope it’s just for dinner.”
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