“It’s nice having him around again,” I said, idly watching them go.
My mother leaned toward us. “If he cheats on Melanie again, I’ll kill him with my bare hands,” she said.
“He’s a big guy,” I said. “I’ll help you.”
There was a small whirlwind at my side, which turned out to be Noah, Joshua in tow. “Mom? Mom? Can I have a sleepover with Joshua?”
“I guess so. Did his mom say it was okay?”
“Yes! Come on, Noah!” Joshua went running off, but I caught at Noah’s arm before he could follow.
“Listen, Noey, you’ve only ever had a sleepover at your cousins’. You sure you’re up for this?”
“Mom,” he said, with an edge of exasperation. “It’s Joshua. He’s like my best friend.”
“Okay, then,” I said, loving his casual use of a term I thought I’d never hear from his lips. “But if you need me to come get you at any point—”
“I won’t,” he said and went trotting off after Joshua.
I sent Debbie a quick text—easier than looking for her in the crowd—and she immediately confirmed that they were delighted to take Noah home with them. I put the phone back in my pocket and looked around.
The current performer was strumming softly on a guitar and singing a gentle folk song. The quiet music made the darkening twilight feel dreamlike.
I sidled up close to Andrew and whispered in his ear, “You know, if Noah’s going on a sleepover, that means I could have one too.”
He sat up straight. “I like that idea.”
“You want to leave now? We can take the food with us. Unless you want to hear more music?”
He was already rising to his feet and tugging me to mine. “I’ve heard enough.”
Later that evening we were curled up together on his bed, watching a movie, my head cushioned comfortably on the soft pad of his naked shoulder, when Andrew suddenly grabbed the remote. “Hold on.” He paused the movie. “Isn’t that your phone?”
My bag was lying on the floor next to the bed, so I rolled over, reached down for it, and got out my phone.
“Mom?” said a very small voice on the other end.
“Noah? Are you okay?”
At first there was just the sound of his breathing—the kind of rapid breathing that meant he was trying not to cry. Then he said, “I think maybe I should come home.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just… I just think I need to come home.” A strangled little sigh that wasn’t quite a sob. “I miss my room.” I heard Debbie’s voice in the background, saying, “Let me talk to her.” Then she said into the phone: “Hey, Rickie.” She sounded pretty tired. “Noah and Joshua had a great time and they went to sleep no problem, but Noah woke up a little while ago and he’s having trouble going back to sleep.”
“It’s his first sleepover,” I said apologetically.
“I think he’d be more comfortable sleeping in his own bed. Can you pick him up? I’d drive him home for you, but Paul’s out of town and I can’t leave the kids.”
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m so sorry about this.”
“Are you kidding?” she said. “He did great. Someday I’ll tell you the whole story of my daughter’s first sleepover, but for now let’s just say that the other girl’s parents still aren’t speaking to us. See you soon.”
As I sat up and pulled on my jeans, I explained what was going on to Andrew, who instantly hopped out of bed and reached for his boxers. “I’ll drive you over there and then drop you and Noah back at your house.”
“If it’s easier, you can just take me to my parents’ and I can grab my car and go on from there.” I scanned the room for my clothing and spotted my bra lying on the floor near his dresser.
He turned, holding a sock in his hand. “I don’t like the idea of you driving around town by yourself at this time of night.”
“It’s not that late.”
He shook his head and went back to getting dressed. “I’m driving you.”
We both quickly finished putting on our clothes and were in the car in less than five minutes. I told Andrew where the Goldens lived, and as he steered us along the quiet, empty, late-night streets, I thought about how I would have been doing this by myself, all alone, if he hadn’t said he’d come with me. And then it occurred to me that if it hadn’t been for Andrew, I probably wouldn’t have been doing this by myself, because Noah might not ever have made friends with Joshua.
He glanced over and caught me looking at him. “What?” he said.
“Nothing. Just… thanks for coming with me. It means a lot.”
“I’m happy to. Hey,” he said, “I was thinking: should we just come back to my place so we don’t wake up your parents? Noah could sleep on the sofa or the floor or wherever you think he’d be most comfortable.”
I thought about what it would be like to wake up in the morning next to Andrew, with Noah running in from the living room to ask if he could crawl into bed with us and watch TV.
I settled back in my seat with a contented sigh and said, “You know what?”
“What?”
“I like the way you think.”
What Mom Gave Me
by Claire LaZebnik
If I could send a letter back in time, there are a bunch of things I’d like to tell my fourteen-year-old self, things like “Think about getting all those baby teeth pulled now,” because I’d just as soon not have to go off to college in braces again. Also, it would be nice to reassure myself that despite all evidence to the contrary my love life actually would work out okay—better than okay—in the long run. But if I only had space to tell my stupid teenage self one thing, it would be a simple “Just be nicer to Mom, okay?”
Like many teenagers, I had a tendency toward sullenness and a profound belief that the members of my family were just supporting players in The Story of My Life. As I got older, and should have known better, I still considered my mother mostly in terms of what she could do for me and didn’t concern myself too much with what her own thoughts and fears and hopes might have been. My life seemed more important than hers, and I was often too busy for long phone conversations, took for granted her gifts and visits, and rarely encouraged her to talk about herself.
Then she was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer. It was scary and sad, but the sudden tragedy meant we could put the rest of life on hold, and we actually had some amazing talks and shared moments in those ten weeks between her diagnosis and death. The walls I’d spent my adolescence and teen years erecting crumbled pretty quickly under the weight of her illness.
But ten weeks isn’t a lot of time, and there were five other members of the family who craved attention and absolution as much as I did. Plus, I had a family of my own to take care of. So plenty of things were left unsaid and a fair number didn’t even get thought about until later. And some of them didn’t come up until I was working on this book.
There’s a moment at the end of this novel when Rickie’s mother explains to her that kids need someone “safe” to take out their frustrations on, someone who won’t leave them no matter how unreasonable or unpleasant they get. “You give them that,” she says, meaning that a mother will weather her child’s anger and never falter in her love.
I wrote those words thinking about my own kids, about how sometimes they’ll come home from a tough day of socializing and academics and just lose it with me, because they can. I don’t enjoy it when my usually delightful kids scream at me or blame me for things that aren’t my fault, but I recognize where that anger’s coming from and I understand it. So I took that feeling and put it in this book: both Rickie and Noah tend to explode at their mothers when they’re feeling emotionally overwhelmed. But I also thought of my own mother as I wrote it, and how I wasn’t always all that nice to her, and I found myself hoping that she understood that it was because I knew it was safe, because I trusted her not to stop loving me no matter how selfish and pissy I was.
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br /> I wish I could just ask her if I’m right about that, and maybe also apologize at the same time. I can’t.
But she was a smart lady. I’m guessing she got it.
Reading Group Guide
There are many mothers in this book—Rickie, obviously, and Melanie and Laurel and Sandra (Gabriel’s mother) and Melanie’s mother and all of the school mothers. Who does your own mother most resemble? If you’re a mother, which mother do you think is most like you? Is that also your favorite mother in the book? If not, why not?
At the beginning of the novel, Gabriel and Melanie have just separated because he’s been unfaithful. At the end, they’ve reunited. Do you think they’ll make it? Why or why not? Do you think she should have forgiven him sooner? Or maybe not at all? What’s unforgivable when it comes to marriage? Anything?
Do you know any kids like Noah—kids who just “march to the beat of a different drummer”? Do you think adults should try to make them fit in better or let them do their own thing?
If you had to describe Rickie, would you say she’s tough or vulnerable? Why? Is she a reliable narrator? Can you think of any point in the novel when Rickie is absolutely wrong about something and doesn’t realize it for a while?
Rickie notices how uncommon it is to have a male teacher in the Fenwick Prep elementary school. Have you noticed this to be the case in your community? Why do you think they tend to be rare?
In one scene, Rickie watches as Noah gets up to bat, wishing more than anything that he’ll get a base hit—or even make contact with the ball. Have you ever wanted something for someone else more than you wanted anything in the world for yourself?
What do you think of the way Rickie handles Noah’s questions about his father? If you were in her boat, would you demand financial or other kinds of support from him?
Rickie’s mother says toward the end of the novel that sometimes when things go wrong, kids need someone safe to get mad at and that a mother “gives” them that—lets them get mad at her and forgives them. Do you think that’s true? Has that ever played out in your life in some way?
About the Author
Claire LaZebnik lives in Los Angeles with her TV writer husband and four children. She is the author of the novels The Smart One and the Pretty One (5 Spot, 2008), Knitting Under the Influence (5 Spot, 2006), and Same as It Never Was and co-author of Overcoming Autism: Finding the Answers, Strategies, and Hope That Can Transform a Child’s Life and Growing Up on the Spectrum: A Guide to Life, Love, and Learning for Teens and Young Adults with Autism and Asperger’s.
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