The smell of bacon pulled me from my sleep. I took my time getting ready, both wanting Billy to wake up and also wanting him to rest. The hectic schedule that was his life for the past six months had exhausted him. I continued to remind myself that he needed sleep. Still, I was nervous about meeting his mother without him. Billy valued no one more than his mother. What if she didn't like me?

I lingered as long as I could before the grumbling in my stomach pulled me into the kitchen. I watched from the doorway as Mary Collins whirled around the kitchen with ease. It was like watching a ballet as she moved between frying, stirring, and chopping. But more surprising was Mary herself. I expected a towering woman with the same dark eyes and hair as Billy. Instead, I found a woman shorter than me, barely 5'5'', with grey hair. She had none of Billy's shy demeanor; her movements felt spry and filled with joy. Happiness sprung from her, even with her back to me.

"Hello," I tentatively said.

She turned without planning her expression. Instead, a genuine look of first bewilderment and then curiosity ebbed welcoming on her lined face.

"You must be Lily." Her eyes were clear green, like the first leaves of spring, and creases framed them from years of laughter.

"I am; I'm sorry to intrude; Billy is still asleep. I didn't want to wake him," I explained, only to fill my need to ramble from nerves.

"Oh, heavens, you're not an intrusion. Come on in." She whirled around the kitchen, clearing a spot at the small Formica table. "Sit. I have bacon, eggs, and can start the toast. Oh, and fruit; Billy mentioned you eat fruit in the morning."

"You didn't have to get me fruit." My shoulders curled into me as I instinctively tried to hide from the fuss.

"Look at you, as shy as Billy. How did you two ever even start?" She laughed to herself. It was a mischievous giggle that hit my ears like a tickle and pushed up the edges of my smile. "Do you want milk, juice, or water?" She added as she spooned out a large helping of fruit.

"Water, please," I tried to sound less shy, but my voice just came strained. "How can I help? I promise I'm a normal person when I have something to do." I flushed at my admission.

"Ha, aren't we all!" She set the bowl and water down in front of me. "Eat first, and then I'll put you to work."

"Agreed." I eagerly shoved fruit in my mouth to quiet my stomach.

"So, Billy tells me you're in school. What are you studying?" She asked as she focused on flipping the bacon.

"I'm an English and history major," I mumbled between bites.

"How's that going?" She continued in a sing-song voice.

"Pretty well; I got ahead last week when I visited Billy."

"Hopefully, you had time for a little fun. You young people, keep forgetting to be young!" She complained with a giggle.

"Well, Tim, Tess, and I got to test drive a Tesla. I mean, Tim did, but Tess and I rode along," I offered.

"Tim is the exception to nearly all rules. That boy would have a party in jail." She set the plate of bacon down on the table and settled into the chair next to me. "He's good for Billy. Billy's too serious, just like his father." She warmly smiled at me.

"He's serious, but Tim pulls out his childish side. I had to scold him last week for punching Tim." The words just fell out before I realized I had just told on Billy to his mother.

"He what?" But there wasn't alarm in her voice; there was the unmistakable tone of pride.

"Oh, you know how they are, always ribbing each other. Well, they took it a bit too far, and Billy laid a punch on him pretty hard, so I scolded him. He sulked like a toddler." I let out a giggle.

"Good for you. Billy has too many pod people around him right now. He needs you and Tim, or else he may float away like a cloud."

The image of Billy's head ballooning and pulling him to the sky made me laugh. When I settled my gaze back on Mrs. Collins, she had sat back in her chair and was looking me over closely. It was the same focus Billy had.

"Tell me about my boy." She had a more serious tone now.

"He's good." But my voice went high at the end, and Mrs. Collins raised an eyebrow at me. "He's stretched thin, I think. He holds himself to such a high standard that he can't succeed in his eyes. I worry about him. And he's incapable of taking care of himself." I added, not bothering to chase away the annoyed inflection.

"That's my fault; I babied him too much." There was a wistful tone to her, as though raising Billy was among her happiest memories. "After four hoodlums, it was nice to have my sweet Billy."

"He's a great man; kind, gentle, patient," I added.

"Oh, well, he didn't get any of that from me. That was his father. I have the patience of a forest fire; anger to match." She laughed to herself again before settling her gaze back on me. "He cares for you a great deal."

I felt my face blush.

"He has mentioned it has been somewhat of a struggle, though." She reached out a hand and tenderly grasped mine.

I sighed and bit back mounting tears. "Billy is on a path that I just don't think I can follow."

She gave me a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Collins; I didn't mean to..." My words caught.

"Nonsense, there's no apology necessary for honest emotions." She gave my hand another squeeze before adding, "and, for heaven's sake, call me Mary."

I gave her a weak smile.

"He knows how hard this has been for you," she added.

"I know, but it's not fair to him. He should be on cloud nine with his success, and instead..." I choked back the tears. "Do you have any more shortbread cookies?" I managed.

"Ha, well, if you two aren't peas in a pod." She hopped up and pulled a tin from the counter before plopping it on the table in front of me.

"Thanks," I said as I nibbled on a cookie.

"Billy chose before he met you. That doesn't mean he chose for you." She gave me another generous smile. "You know, when Billy was a boy, he found a stray cat. Pitiful little thing, all bones and dull brown hair. Every day when he got home from school, that cat came around. I couldn't figure out why until I caught him pulling a piece of bologna out of his pocket and feeding that pathetic little thing. Was I mad thinking he had taken it from the fridge!" She let out a laugh. "I should've known better. He had been taking it out of his lunch. He must have had a dozen mayonnaise sandwiches before I caught him."

"That sounds like Billy," I smiled, but it didn't push back the tears at all.

"Well, there was a storm coming, and Billy was worried about that damn cat, so of course, he zipped it up in his coat and hid it in a box under his bed. Well, that cat was fine the first night and even the second, but he wanted out by the third night. He wasn't a house cat; he needed to be outdoors. It made so much noise. Billy knew he had to let the cat go, even though he wanted to keep him. He didn't shed a single tear; he just set the little guy down on the porch and watched him scamper off. I told him it was okay to be sad." She let out a laugh to herself as her eyes were distant, lost in the memory. "He turned to me and said, 'why would I be sad; the cat is happy. That makes me happy.' That boy has had the wisdom of seven kinds since he was born."

I gazed at her as her mind lingered on young Billy.

"My point is," she began again, "Billy will be happy if you're happy. But he has no chance of being happy if you aren't."

"Thank you," I murmured.

Billy's heavy footsteps coming up the stairs drowned my words of gratitude.

"Here comes our boy now," she smiled as she popped up and poured him a cup of coffee.

"Morning," Billy said from the doorway. He gave his mom a gentle kiss on the cheek as she handed him the mug before taking a seat at the table. "Morning," he smiled at me.

"Barely," I teased.

He let out a laugh. "Mom, tell Lil how I used to be a morning person?"

"Oh, honey, you didn't even come out of the womb until three in the afternoon." She laughed as she set a plate of eggs and toast in front of him.

"Mom," he groaned, as Mary and I both let out a laugh.