The doorbell

The doorbell rings. The good news is that I have an excuse to stop ironing. The bad news is that sooner or later I'll get back into the fold. My flip flops make an annoying noise while I walk, but summer has begun and I can't withstand my feet roasting. I don't even bother to ask who is ringing; the only member of the family who never brings the keys is my daughter Anna and I hate her for that. I'm opening the door, ready to lecture the girl, when my breath suddenly stops. Anna is in a delicious company. The guy next to her is tall, at least 6 inches taller than me, has long brown hair now shining under the sun, green eyes and the stunning face of a young man. He looks in his early 30s, an impression confirmed by the neat dress code: a blue shirt tucked in a pair of white pants that his brown shoes perfectly match. Anna walks in, saying hello, while the guy is a bit more shy. "I'm Jonathan, my pleasure," he says politely before taking off his shoes, following my daughter's lead. I smile and shake his hand briefly, when my palm starts sweating without apparent reason. His handshake is very manly. Despite my efforts, my glance drops down to stare at his feet. They look huge. I've been always fascinated by feet, as they somehow mirrored the hands, body, and cleanliness of a person.

"Mom, we are going upstairs!" Anna says, heading towards her room. I nod my head, actually beginning to mull over the age of the guy. My daughter was a fresh 18-year-old, and he was a man visibly much older. Most likely, he was closer to my age than hers! No, I couldn't ignore the problem, I needed to investigate who Johnatan was and what he wanted. To my dismay, the shirt in the meanwhile has not yet ironed itself. I restart my chores, still thinking about him, when a sudden noise comes from Anna's room. After a few moments, another one comes, followed by laughs and other indistinctive sounds. This is outrageous...they really dare to do something while I'm in the other room? I'm not sure about the virginity of my daughter but...that's unexpected anyway. No, I need to figure out what is going on and make it clear that I'm watching them very carefully. I go to my daughter's room, stopping by the door, which is half open. I try to peer through the slit, but what I see freezes me. They're both on the bed, as expected, and Jonathan is on top of my girl. Fortunately, he's fully dressed with just his shirt's sleeves rolled up. The guy is pinning my daughter down, and she's doing her best to break free.

"Do you surrender now?", he demands, amused. "You... you're cheating," she exhales. "Oh really? "How so?" he asks charmingly, "...because you're a man and you do martial arts... this is your game, bastard... ", "and if this is my game, why do you dare to question my ability?" he keeps asking, reaching for her lips. Ok, this is enough: I knock on the door. The two disentangle their bodies, and Anna rushes up; "Yes mom?", she queries with a fearful voice. "Anna my darling, may I have a word?", I coldly say, hoping to send the right message to both. She gets it and comes out to talk. "Sorry Anna but who's this guy? And how old is he?", I demand, hoping that my tone and disparaging look will deliver more words than those pronounced. "We are dating and he's 23, why?". A shiver runs down my spine. "Oh he's 23...", I repeat, a bit a loss. What can I complain about? My mind struggles to find something: "..and why wasn't I informed about this relationship??", I finally ask, trying to hide my embarrassment. "Sorry, I'll tell you everything, mom, ok? When he leaves after dinner we can talk as much as you want", "Oh really? So, do we have a host for dinner?", "Yes, please make a bit more food".