Crumbs (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

Birthday Cake

"She might be mean to you, and if she's rude, I'm really sorry.  She'll definitely be mean to me, and it will be awkward, so I apologize in advance." I feel the need to warn Tom about my mom, since I'm not sure how she will react to him.  When it comes to me and my life choices, I can't say she's always been super supportive.  It is late afternoon, and I'm sort of out of breath and dragging my feet as we walk up the hilly field behind the cottage and up to the big house.  Tom is carrying his suitcase and I have his book bag slung over my shoulder.  We'd look like some sort of mismatched hobo team, except I'm pretty sure Tom's suitcase cost more than my car. I doubt he bought it though, he was probably given it by some designer hoping to get free publicity.

 "You're scaring me a little.  Does she do well at the B&B?" He looks down at me, huffing slightly.  He's still not fully recovered from our night drinking, and I'm pretty sure the muggy summer air isn't making his hangover any better.

"Yeah, she's usually really nice to her guests.  It's the most popular B&B around.  I just wanted to warn you, in case you get caught in the crossfire. I still can't believe you're staying there.  Are you sure you don't want to just stay with me at the hobbit hotel?" I ask as I push through the tall grass.  Tom frowns and takes a deep breath, switching his suitcase to the other arm.

"It's tempting, sweet, really.  What with your ample amount of space and the vast, vast amount of floor to sleep on." He grins and I frown at him.

"That's your fault. I had a lovely set up.  Now I'm a hobo.  Where am I going to sleep tonight?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"I'm sure I can procure another blow up bed for you.  Or you could stay at your mother's—"

"Hah!" I laugh loudly and angrily and scare some wildlife nearby.  We are nearly to the house and I get this horrible sense of impending doom.  As if on cue, the door to the Smokey Oyster opens and there is my mom in all her glory.  She's got her hand over her eyes, looking at us as if we are a ship out at sea.  Only we're not a ship.  We're her daughter and a tall, British guy, both of whom are slightly hungover and irritable.

"Charlotte?! Is that you?" She exclaims, despite the fact that she knows exactly who it is.  Again, we are only a few yards away and it is broad daylight.

"Charlotte?" Tom mutters under his breath and I can feel him looking at me.  I'm not sure he's ever heard anyone call me that.  I wrinkle my nose at him and give him a little shake of the head.

"Hi Mom." I call out as Tom follows me up onto the large porch.  Tom is at my side and we stop in front of her.  She's wearing a knee length dress in a pastel flower print.  Her dark hair is curled around her shoulders.  She has on an apron and looks like she stepped out of a Norman Rockwell painting.

"Char, where did you come from?" Her voice is shrill, and I want to run back screaming to the cottage.

"Where else, Mom? The cottage." I sigh.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" She smiles brightly, and I bite my lip.  I turn to Tom, who is standing a half step behind me, smiling like a loon.  He's eating this up and I hate him.

"Mom, this is my friend Tom.  He's actually staying with you for awhile.  He booked a room." I say quickly, my voice dull and flat.  I wave my hand between the two of them limply.  "Tom, this is my mom, Elizabeth Kaye.  Mom, this is Tom Harrison." Making this introduction is most likely cutting off at least 5 years of my life.  Tom looks thrilled.  Genuinely thrilled.

"Mrs. Kaye! It's fantastic to meet you.  I've heard lovely things." He steps forward, putting on his best Prince act (the royal kind, not the singer) and I can immediately tell my mother is in love.  It infuriates me.  Tom shakes mom's hand.