“I think your daughter is wonderful,” Eric says, finally able to contain himself.
“Which one?” my mom asks. “The one that carrying twat seed or the one that’s so caught up with work, she forgot to have a life?”
“I planned on having a life when I was younger, Mom,” I tell her, “but you did a pretty good job convincing me that nothing I ever did was going to be good enough.”
I’d hoped that the conversation wouldn’t devolve into this, but I really should have known better. Even from her hospital bed, my mom’s still the queen of nastiness.
“It made you try harder, though, didn’t it?” my mom asks.
“It made me feel like I couldn’t do anything right,” I tell her. “It made me think that the best I could ever hope for was that a man would take pity on me and save me from my own stupidity!”
“Now dear,” my mom says, “do try to not raise your voice in front of the help.”
“The help?!” I exclaim.
Eric’s eyes are wide, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I will have you know that this man is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time and no, I don’t know where our relationship’s going, but he’s a decent person and he actually cares about me enough to try to help me feel better when I’m worried about you and your bullshit!”
“So, you think this is going to be it for you, do you?” she asks.
“That’s way over the line,” I tell her. “He’s my boyfriend, and I’m not going to sit here while you talk about him this way. Come on, Eric, we’re going.”
I stand and march to the door, but a sound from my mother’s bed stops me in my tracks.
Boiling, I spin around to find her with a wide smile on her face and laughter coming out of her throat.
“What is so funny?” I ask.
“You never did understand,” she says, laughing. “I’m not the demon you think me to be, dear. Now sit back down and let’s talk for a minute.”
“I don’t want to sit back down,” I tell her. “I’m glad the surgery went well, and I hope you can get back home soon, but—”
“Jessica?” Eric interrupts.
“What?!” I yell, turning back toward him.
“I think I get it,” he says.
“Get what?” I ask.
“He’s your boyfriend, dear,” my mom says behind me.
“I hardly think that’s a call for you to make,” I start, but then it hits me.
My mom just gives words to the thought, “Well, you said so yourself. Didn’t you?”
I guess I did.
“Sometimes people need a little pressure to realize what they want and what they feel,” my mom says. “You were always a little tougher to crack than your sister. It’s a good thing Eric’s here, otherwise you might have just thought I was being cruel for the sake of being cruel. Say what you want about how you feel, dear, but you just stood up for him in a pretty profound way. You don’t usually do that sort of thing unless you really care for someone.”
“Even if that was your goal the whole time,” I tell her, “that doesn’t mean you have the right to talk about people that way.”
“And you’re still defending him,” my mom says and starts making kissing motions with her mouth.
“Come on,” I tell Eric and I storm out of the room.
He follows me down the hall, but I’m to the elevator before he catches up.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I answer. “I’m angry and I’m frustrated and I’m embarrassed—okay, mostly I’m embarrassed.”
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he says. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know,” I tell him. “Well, I could have thought through introducing you to my mother a little more carefully.”
“Hey,” he says, “if nothing else, I think we just had the talk.”
I look up him and, as the elevator doors open, he smiles and takes my hand.
“I think I’d be okay with being your boyfriend,” he says.
“Romantic as always,” I scoff and we get on the elevator.
Chapter Eighteen
A Constellation of Little Surprises
Eric
We pull up to Jessica’s parents’ house and sit out front, the car still running.
“I realize that we probably should have had that talk in private,” she says. “In my defense, I kind of tried to do it before we got to the hospital.”
“It’s all right,” I chuckle. “All things considered, I’m just glad it happened.”
I lean over and slowly press my lips against hers, but only for a moment.
“I have to warn you about my dad,” she says while looking into my eyes.
“You know, your mom really wasn’t that bad and you warned me about her. I think I’ll be all right,” I answer.
“She’s the more overtly abrasive of the two, but my dad is by far more protective. I’m just saying stay on your toes. He has a way of trapping you in an uncomfortable situation before you’re even aware you’re in it,” she says.
“I’ll just be my usual charming self,” I tell her. “That usually works pretty well for me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she says. “Just remember that I warned you.”
I’m not going to lie, I am a little nervous now, but I’m just here to help her collect her things. We probably won’t even be here that long.
We get out of the car and I follow Jessica up to the door.
“Just think about everything you’re about to say before you say it,” she says. “Better yet, think about everything my dad says before you decide to say anything back.”
“Jessica,” I tell her, “it’s going to be fine. I’ve met the guy before and he seemed nice enough then.”
“Yeah, that was before he got all curious about the nature of our relationship,” she sighs. “Well, here we go,” she says and opens the front door.
We walk in and she calls out to her dad, letting him know that we’re here.
“I’ll be down in a minute!” he shouts back from somewhere upstairs. “I thought you said you were going to call first!”
“Shit,” she says. “I kind of forgot about that. My dad’s one of those guys who thinks that boxers are appropriate attire in the home. The family’s used to it, but just in case he comes around the corner with his gut hanging out, I just want you to be prepared.”
“I’m sure it’s endearing,” I tell her.
We stand in the entryway, Jessica says to “minimize the chances of coming into view of hanging brain,” and a few minutes later, there are footsteps coming down the stairs.
“I was already getting dressed when you came in,” her father says as he comes into view, thankfully fully clothed. “Ah, Eric,” he says. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Nice to see you again, too, sir,” I respond.
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” he asks.
“I did not,” I answer. “Your secret’s safe with me?”
“What secret?” Jessica asks, turning alternately to me and then to her dad and back to me while fidgeting with her watch.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” I tell her. “How are you doing tonight, sir?”
“Oh, call me Harold,” he says. “Do you like cannabis?”
There’s a question I didn’t expect.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I can’t say that I’ve tried it.”
“Would you like to?” he asks.
“Dad…” Jessica moans.
“Right,” Harold responds. “Well, you said you wanted to come by and pick up some stuff. What did you need?”
“I just wanted to grab some things from my closet,” Jessica says. “Eric’s going to give me a hand—we really don’t have that much time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Harold says and turns to me. “Early morning tomorrow, huh?”
“What? No,” I answer.
Jessica elbows me in the arm.
“What?” I ask, turning toward her.
“We’re just going to head upstairs real quick,” she says to her dad. “I’m sorry we can’t stay longer.”
“Well, maybe your friend here can keep me company while you’re upstairs getting things together,” he says. “How does that sound, Eric?”