“Speaking of Mom, I said we’ll be there on Sunday for dinner.” Jeff smirks at me, and yeah, my tongue automatically sticks out. Great. Only five days to get my eyes back to normal.
“Such a good friend you are.”
“I know,” he replies, seeming proud of himself.
Classes move at a snail’s pace all week. My nerves are stretched thin, as I’m constantly on the lookout for Drew to surprise me and show up at school. Of course, Jeff waits until Friday afternoon to let me know Drew is halfway around the world on another shoot. I have to punch him, since he also said Liam had told him Monday morning. I resist the urge to ask when Drew’s coming back, as I don’t want to hear Jeff lecturing me again.
Sunday, I wake up to a beautiful sunny morning, and if it wasn’t for the foot of snow covering the ground, you’d think it was spring or summer and not frigid winter. All bundled up in layers of clothing, I wait on the couch for Jeff to finish getting ready. I’m proud of myself for being up and ready before him. Maybe it means my heart is beginning to mend. Oh, who in the heck am I kidding?
“Boy, aren’t we anxious for dinner with the fam?”
“Yeah, right. Don’t mention anything about the whole Drew thing, okay?” I ask. Yes, I’m anxious. I’d give anything to avoid them finding out about my wild week of pre-marital sexual activity followed by a sudden breakup. They’re from a different generation and wouldn’t understand.
“Of course I won’t. I think Julie, Kevin, and I are doing a great job of telling you that you screwed up, so we don’t need any help.”
“Oh hush, and let’s just get this over with.”
An hour and a half later, we arrive at my parents’ house. The roads were a little busy for a Sunday, and several people decided they needed more excitement in their lives and got themselves into a few car accidents. Everyone is at the house, and luckily, there’s no time for small talk, as dinner is on the table and Mom tells us to take our seats as soon as we walk through the door.
“So, Dora, I tried to call you yesterday, it went straight to your voice mail, and you didn’t return my calls.
Great. Trust Grandma to bring this up the moment dinner starts.
“I was getting weird calls, so I turned it off during the day.”
“Weird calls? Did you call the police?”
Awesome. Now everyone at the table, even Bridget, who likes to eat and then excuse herself because she’s too cool for us, is staring at me.
“Not police-calling weird, just wrong numbers, telemarketers, and such. No big deal, but it wastes my minutes when I answer them.” They don’t need to know I have an unlimited minute plan, do they?
My dad, the sweet man that he is, changes the subject. “So, how does it feel to be graduating in less than five months?”
I let Jeff answer first, and then I say something appropriate. To my relief, everyone seems to be concentrating on their plates.
Right after dinner, Jeff, Granddad, and my dad disappear into the den. Bridget and Taylor sneak away as usual, and I’m on kitchen duty with the women.
“Dora, how are your queer—I mean—gay roommates doing?”
Oh, Grandma. You just have to love her.
“They’re fine. In fact, they’re all out of the country right now. I hardly see them between work and school.” My back is to them, thank goodness, because even though they’re out of the country, Jeff’s my roomie now, so that would be a lie.
“They’re nice young men. I just don’t understand why they wouldn’t want to settle down with a woman and have a family.” Now Grandmother has to put in her two cents.
“Maybe because they haven’t found the right women, and I told you, two of them aren’t gay.”
There, I said it. Now they either deal or decide to live in their “our granddaughter is living with gays, so she’s safe” world.
Total silence. Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse. Don’t ask me why that popped into my head.
“Well, let’s get these dishes washed. They won’t clean themselves,” my mom says briskly, and we do as she says without another word.
Just before we’re about to escape, my mom asks to speak with me alone. I follow her with a sense of dread building up in my stomach. Maybe Henry has told her something about me, which he isn’t supposed to, as it breaks the family code.
“Have a seat. This won’t take long.” She points to the kitchen chair opposite the one she takes for herself. “Henry told me this morning that Drew still needs your help. Dora, part of who we are is to help others, and I’m tired of Henry’s bitching—yes, I said bitching—about you not holding up your part.”
“Tell Henry to help Drew himself then, if he thinks I’m not doing a good enough job.”
“I told him to shut up and let you be, and I haven’t heard from him since. He will not let me forget this. I swear, sometimes I just want to be normal.” My mom looks tired, and I feel guilty that I’m adding to her problems.
“I’ll try harder, Mom, but it’s difficult when the object I’m supposed to be helping is absent all the time. Don’t worry, I’ll fix this.” I get up and put my arms around her and she leans back. I kiss the top of her head. “Love you, Mom. Jeff and I have to go. We’ve got an early class tomorrow.” I kiss her cheek and we walk arm in arm back into the living room.
“So Henry didn’t tell? What a relief for you now, but if it’s your job to help Drew, then that’s what needs to happen,” Jeff says, driving back to his apartment.
“Did you see the tabloid when we went grocery shopping yesterday? Did Drew look like he needs help, or is pining for me? No. He looked happy posing with Angela. So no more talk about Drew. I’ll handle my mom if it comes up again.”
“Okay, I’ll butt out. We need to concentrate on graduating anyway, and we have no time for love.”
“Wait. What about Liam? You haven’t done anything stupid, have you?” I turn to look at him and see him smiling in the light from the dash.
“No. We’re taking it slow. It’s a new world for him, and I understand that, so we talk on the phone most nights. He’ll be gone for a month, so we’ll see.”
“I hope he sees what a catch you are. What am I saying? Your ego is big enough already. Scratch that from your memory.” We burst out laughing, and it feels good. I haven’t laughed it what seems like forever.
24
Valentine’s Day. It’s either a truly wonderful day or it sucks. And mine is at an epic level of suck.
Waking up this morning, I threw up violently, which means I either have the stomach flu or food poisoning. It doesn’t even matter because I don’t have a date or someone to share this “great” holiday with. Not like I could if I did, since I have this whole upchucking thing going on. Jeff brings me a cool washcloth and places it on my forehead, and it makes me feel at least fifty percent better.
“I’ll stop by all your classes and get any work you need to finish. You just stay in bed and drink plenty of fluids. The last thing you need to do is get dehydrated.”
“I will. Jeff, don’t call my mom. I just want to just lay here and die in peace.”
“You’re not going to die. It’s just the flu, and you’re healthy, so you should get over it fast. Is there anything you need before I go, besides another stomach?”
Yep, Mr. Psychic knows what I was going to say.
“No. Just go to class and don’t come home. You have a date tonight, so take your clothes with you and dress at the loft. If I die, I’ll call and let you know.” I give a halfhearted laugh and then shoot out of bed, making it to the porcelain God just in time.