When I first met the guy I couldn't stand him. At the time I didn't know his name, and it didn't matter. I mean, he was just the guy who was helping us move into our apartment. It's not like I thought that my mom would end up marrying the guy or anything.
My mom and I were running late. Not like it was anything new. We were supposed to be in Moulton no later than 5:30, and now it was closer to 6:00. We finally pulled into the apartment complex, where we were supposed to meet this guy, at a little after 6:00. After searching for this guy for a few minutes[->0] and a few phone calls, we assumed that we had missed him. "See Mom, you should have gotten off of work early," I said just as I saw the guy pull into the parking lot. "Hey are you ready to move into your apartment?" asked the guy.After a few minutes of struggling to get the furniture into the apartment, I figured it was the end of the adventure. A few weeks[->1] later, after getting home from work, my mom was telling me that I would never guess who had called her earlier in the day. Not being in a great mood, I just shrugged my shoulders as to suggest that I didn't really care. Then she asked me if I remembered the guy who we had met just a few days before. She told me that he had called to ask her if she wanted to go out one night that coming weekend.
Then, a few weeks later, after I got home from softball practice, there was a strange but familiar looking truck parked beside moms car. After getting a shower and fixing myself something to eat I noticed mom come out of her room. Normally when she would come out of her room she would leave her door open, but not this time. I knew that something was up, and I asked her who was there. She whispered and said that his name was Scott. Come to find out that it was the guy who helped us move into the apartment. Talk about an awkward situation. This was my mom, and she wasn't supposed to have someone staying over at the house,