People everywhere. In some ways the greater outside world hadn't changed much in other ways it had woefully left me far behind. One thing hadn't changed though, the noise. It filled my ears with its incessant racket and egged on the headache that was beginning to form deep in my head. I didn't regret leaving this fast-paced world, where everyone was in a hurry and trying to drive overtop of everyone else. No I didn't regret it at all.
Once we were out of the city it got better. Trent's mother lived along the shore near a place called Cape May. I'd never been there before, but I was looking forward to the noise of the sea. That was a noise that I liked.
I left the driving to Trent and was grateful not have to navigate my way through the suburbia hell that had taken place in my absence from society. Finally we reached a quieter section of the seaside community. I could tell by how relaxed Trent was that he was glad to be here, like I was, when I was in the mountains of Idaho. No doubt he would settle here or somewhere like it, which meant I would have to travel to see my Deshavi and any little ones that might come into the world in the future. It was a sacrifice I'd gladly make in order to see Deshavi settled, happy, and better yet lovingly cared for.
We pulled up at a beachside cottage that I had to admit possessed a quaint charm to it. It was slightly run down, but well-maintained nevertheless. Trent got out and so did I. Not for the first time I wondered to myself privately, would Trent's mother except Deshavi?
I didn't have long to wait to find out. The screen door clattered and a slim woman with streaks of gray dotting her black hair ran up to Trent and encircled her much taller son with a tight grip. He returned the embrace with gentled passion.
From where Deshavi and I stood it was clear to see that Trent was a man who loved his mother with all his heart and she him in return. She stepped back abruptly and smiled at us charmingly. I was instantly captivated by both her smile and her as a whole.
Trent's mother I had to admit was stunningly attractive. At fifty seven she had begun to gray somewhat prematurely, but it took nothing from her beauty. It was her eyes that fascinated me the most. They were very knowing eyes and I saw kindness in them, set against a backdrop of resolute toughness.