All of sudden, I didn’t want to see the girl go.

“What do you have, an early class tomorrow or something?” I asked her. It was only after ten.

“I have to work in the morning,” she answered.

I nodded. I guess I had to let her go then. “Okay.”

I was ready to ask her how I could call her, but my mother had her information already, and if I ever really wanted it, I figured I could get it through my mom.

“Until next time,” I told Geneva.

“Next time when you know how to act,” my mother barked at me.

Geneva looked at me and nodded. It looked as if she wanted to say something else but was hesitant.

“Well, let me walk you to the car,” I offered. My mother had disturbed us before I could really get Geneva going. And she was still frowning at me, but she couldn’t stop a guy from walking a girl to her car at night.

When we approached the curb where Geneva’s blue Volkswagen Jetta was parked, I whispered, “So, how do I get your number without my mother seeing us?”

She laughed and said, “When you’re serious about doing more than knocking on doors, your mother knows how to get in touch with me.”

“But someone might get in your house before then. I want to make sure I can keep them out,” I joked with her.

She looked at me and asked, “And you can just be friends with me?”

I didn’t like the sound of that shit. Once a woman put you in the friend department, it was hard as hell to get back out. So I was tempted to pass.

“Ahhh…”

She said, “I understand. You’re probably not used to being friends with women throwing themselves at you all the time.”

“Who told you that?”

“It’s obvious,” she responded. “But look, I’m really going to be all about my studies for the next few years, so…”

I knew it. I should have left that damn girl alone before I started. Now I was looking like I had the hots for her, and she was turning me down cold.

I said, “Well, can I ask you a question before you leave?”

“Sure.”

“What did you think about meeting me before you came over here today?”

“Well, to tell you the truth, at first I just thought about telling your mother I was busy. But I didn’t want to lie to her. So I told myself, ‘How bad could it be to eat dinner with her and her son?’ ”

I thought about that and grinned. My mother had cramped my style. I nodded and said, “Thanks. That’s why you never allow your mother to invite a woman over to meet you. You’re at a disadvantage before you even speak to the girl.”

“No, because if it wasn’t for her, then I wouldn’t even have thought about you,” Geneva argued. “But don’t forget you’re the one who doesn’t want to be friends first.”