by Anna Albo
Jason’s mouth opened slightly and he quickly shut it. “Laying a hand on you is always unacceptable.”
“I know that, and I know you don’t get it, but it gave me an escape.”
“You could have left him at any time.”
“Jason, I know that!” Frustration was rising in me. “But it wasn’t that easy. Callie and I had been friends for years, and I knew if Eric and I broke up it would damage our friendship. If I dumped him I’d lose her; there was no way around that, and he knew it.”
“I just don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t.”
I stood and started bringing dishes into the kitchen. He followed me, which was exactly what I didn’t want him to do. “Grace, I’m glad you got out, and I’m glad that you left him the first time he laid a hand on you. I admire you for that. Most women can’t.”
“Can we stop talking about this now? It ruined a perfectly wonderfully day.”
“Topic closed.”
“One last thing. I told you in the strictest confidence. I expect you to honor that.”
“I will. I promise.”
A part of me was uneasy that I told him, that someone else in the universe knew, but the other part of me was happy to have purged it.
CHAPTER 12
“Details, details, details,” Anita said the next day. Once again, we were working on our law school applications. We spent just as much time on those as we did maintaining our 3.9 grade point averages. There were letter of recommendations to obtain and go through, personal statements to write, re-write, and write again. The previous summer we’d devoted every minute we had to extracurricular and community activities, including my stint at a woman’s shelter—yes, the irony—and Anita’s time at a youth center. The politics of a law school application wasn’t just sending in an application, an LSAT score, and your GPA, it was a job in and of itself. I’d wanted to tear my hair out on more than one occasion, especially with my Cornell application. I was working really hard on it; when the crash of my inevitable rejection finally came, I’d be so very disappointed. But that was for the best. I couldn’t go there anyway.
“What do you want to know?” I asked, pulling out my laptop. Anita and I were one of those people who bought a coffee at Starbucks and then sat there all afternoon using up their free Wi-Fi.
“Did he rock your world?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”
“When am I going to meet this guy?”
“He’s coming to your party, but I’d like you guys to meet him first. How about next weekend?”
Anita’s face grimaced. “I invited Callie to my party.”
“That’s okay. We all have to get on with our lives. If she has a problem with Jason, she can go home. Eric and I have been over for so long now, she needs to get over it.”
Anita’s eyebrows raised. “Wow, you’ve changed your tune.”
“Look, I’m done feeling guilty. I’ve met a really awesome guy and I shouldn’t be afraid to introduce him to my friends because it may put Callie off. When Eric and I broke up, she dumped me pretty fast. I don’t think she had much concern for my feelings.”
“I hear you. All right, I’ll talk to Mike. Maybe we can go for drinks? The place will have to serve coffee.” Anita giggled.
“Great. I think the boys will like each other.”
“So tell me more about your New Year’s Eve.”
I gave her the short version and she had a big smile on her face.
“You really like him.”
“I do.”
“And he made you an awesome breakfast. Come to think of it, I don’t think Mike can even scramble eggs. I look forward to meeting him. Have you told your parents about him?”
“I was actually thinking of doing that in the next day or two and having him come over this weekend. The problem is that Jason initially comes off as cold and aloof, so that may not go over well with my parents. I think that once they get to know him, they’ll like him a lot.”
“Enough gossiping. Let’s get back to work. We have some dream law schools to get into.”
I HAD THE EARLY SHIFT the next morning. Jason wasn’t working until later. By the time I saw him, I was preparing to go home. We chatted for a minute and I reminded him that he was coming to my parents’ for dinner the next evening. The only problem was that I hadn’t told my parents yet. I wondered if it was too much too soon, that I’d scare Jason off with my family and then my friends, but I had a good feeling about it and didn’t want to hide him away anymore.
I got home, changed into my yoga pants and T-shirt, freed my hair from its bun, and sought out my mom. She’d been substituting all week long and had Friday off. I found her in the kitchen clipping coupons. The small television on the refrigerator had on CNN. If nothing else, Mom was a news junkie. She could watch it all day long, no matter how depressing. Breaking News was her drug of choice.
“Hi, Mom.”
“How was work?” she asked, sorting piles of flyers. She’d already clipped about twenty coupons and they were arranged in neat piles. Before the collapse, Mom wouldn’t touch a coupon. She thought they were beneath her and openly mocked the ladies who passed stacks to cashiers at the grocery store, holding up the line. Things had certainly changed. Now Mom was one of those ladies.
“Nothing exciting. All the planes landed safely.” My Walter Cronkite joke.
I poured a glass of water and sat with her. She gave me a suspicious look. “You never help me coupon clip, and usually when you come home from work you go straight to your room to study, sleep, or read. What’s going on?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something.” A look of worry came over Mom’s face. “It’s nothing bad. I promise.”
“All right, well, you better tell me before I get worried.”
“I met someone.” I decided to dive right in.
Mom nodded and waited for me to tell her more.
“We’ve been dating for the last few weeks.”
“I assumed as much. You were doing your hair a lot. What’s his name? Where did you meet him?”
“At work. He’s a Customs agent.”
Mom nodded some more.
“He’s originally from Chicago, and Minneapolis is his first posting.”
“How old is he?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“What was he doing before?”
“Military.”
Mom frowned, but I expected that. She hated all things military. She’d lost an older brother in Vietnam when she was a teenager. She spoke with high regard about Uncle Cam who’d lost his life at the age of twenty. A picture of him was on the wall along with everyone else in our family, but Uncle Cam’s picture always stood out. Smiling and handsome, Mom said he always had the girls chasing him, and when he went off to war, Mom worried about him every day. When he died, she said she cried every day for over a year.
“Mom, military was a way for him to go to school.”
“He served somewhere? Killed people?”
“I don’t know a lot because I haven’t asked and he hasn’t said much. He served two tours in Afghanistan.”
“When they don’t talk about it, it usually means it was bloody.”
“The military is his past now. He’s starting a new chapter in his life.”
Mom turned and looked me straight in the eye. Her large brown eyes were staring at me and for a second I saw fear. “I won’t judge him yet, but I will say this. When a man leaves a military career and then accepts a civilian job where he is still in a position of authority over people, you must, at the very least, be cautious of who he is, where he’s been, and how it’s damaged him. If he won’t speak of his experience in Afghanistan, then he hasn’t found peace.”
Mom had my full attention, and if I hadn’t known any better, I would have thought she’d already talked to Ellen. They were parroting the same things.
“Mom, he’s a good guy.”
“I hope so, sweetie. I know it’s been a long
time since you and Eric broke up, so I hope this man is good for you. I just ask that keep your eyes wide open.”
If only Mom knew about Eric. She and Dad loved him because he put on such a great performance. Even when he and I started dating, he was the sweetest guy. I’d already known him for years, so I thought I knew what to expect. But when we were alone, a different side of him emerged. It’s true what people say: you never really know a person.
“I will. I was hoping to have him over tomorrow night to meet you guys. If that’s okay.”
“Sure, invite him over. Is he a vegetarian?”
“No, Mom.”
She smirked. “I didn’t think so.”
WAS I NERVOUS? HELL yes! My entire shift at Anthony’s was spent in a constant state of panic and fear. Mom was unpredictable, and even though I’d warned Jason about Mom’s pacifism, could one ever be prepared for the onslaught from a sister who lost her beloved big brother to war? Or a mother who feared her daughter had fallen for the devil?
My shift was riddled with mistaken orders. When it was finally over, I felt like I owed Anthony’s money and not the other way around. I gathered up my stuff and met Jason outside in his waiting truck.
“How was your day?” he asked, giving me a quick kiss on the lips before driving off.
“A bit of a disaster. I was nervous all day.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. I’m ready for whatever your mom has for me. I’m a real trooper.”
“No military jokes, please!”
“Okay, okay. I’ll be good.”
“She might be a bit cold.”
“That’s okay. I understand. She won’t be the first person I’ve come across who is morally opposed to war.”
I was so nervous about tonight that I went to my dad that morning. While Mom was out having coffee with friends, I took him aside and told him all my fears. His tired hazel eyes watched me as I spoke and when I finished my plea for him to tell Mom not to ruin this dinner, he reached out and squeezed my hands.
“Your mom wants you to be happy, so she won’t do anything to hurt you.”
“What if she doesn’t like him?”
“Do you like him?”
“Yes.”
“Then that’s enough.”
I hugged my dad for the first time in a long time. He seemed so frail. He’d lost so much weight, and as I held onto him, I realized how defeated he was—and yet he was doing all he could to keep me hopeful. He’d nearly reduced me to tears.
“I thought I’d butter your mom up with some expensive chocolates that I got at the mall,” Jason said. “She likes chocolate, right?”
“She loves them.”
“Then I’m off to a good start.”
He had no idea. A box of chocolates wasn’t going to cut it; not even close.
We got to my house and the nerves began to build. The Toyota was in the driveway, but then again, where else would it be? I took several deep breaths as I went up the walk, Jason following behind me. I opened the front door and as I walked over the threshold I wondered if I was about to engage in hostilities.
“We’re here,” I called out.
Mom appeared from the kitchen wearing her favorite “Queen of the Kitchen” apron. She stood in the kitchen entrance and took one long look at Jason from head to toe. I followed her eyes as they rose up and down. She wiped her hands on the side of her apron and stepped towards us.
“You must be Jason,” Mom said.
“Hello, Mrs. Whellam,” he said, extending his hand. “I brought you these chocolates.”
“No need for formalities,” she said, waving away his hand. “Not necessary. And you can call me Gillian.” She took the chocolates and casually set them on one of the countertops.
Dad stood from his chair in front of the television. He shuffled over and gave Jason a weak smile. He’d dressed up a little today instead of his baggy blue jeans and ratty old T-shirt. He had on khakis and a blue dress shirt neatly tucked in.
“I’m John, Grace’s father.”
“A pleasure. I’m Jason McCarthy.”
The introductions aside, Mom went into action.
“Dinner should be ready soon,” she said. “In the meantime, why don’t you all enjoy some appetizers in the living room.”
Appetizers? Mom had gone all out, and the minute I stepped into the living room, I could smell her cheesy artichoke dip. Normally I would have dove right in, possibly ate it all, but the butterflies in my stomach weren’t thinking the same thing. So far everything had gone well, but it had only been two minutes. Jason sat on the sofa next to Dad’s chair and watched the hockey highlights with him.
“Hockey fan, Jason?”
“More of a football fan.”
“Vikings?”
“Bears.”
Dad’s face screwed up in confusion. “Bears?”
“I’m from Chicago.”
“I didn’t know that. I’ve been to Chicago a few times. Great place. So how did you get here?”
The ice was broken and I smiled. I hadn’t seen Dad engaged in a conversation in a long time. By the time I placed my first scoop of artichoke dip on a cracker, they were comparing football and hockey teams. Dad loved his sports and apparently so did Jason.
“About my wife,” Dad said suddenly and in a hushed tone, “she might give you a bit of a rough time with respect to your military career. I’m sure Grace has warned you, but in case she hasn’t, don’t take it too personally.”
“No, sir, I won’t.”
I looked over at Dad and his attention was once again focused on the television. I saw a hint of contentment on his face, almost something peaceful, and I was touched by it. Dad liked Jason and somehow Jason had lifted his spirits.
“Time to eat,” Mom called from the dining room.
The butterflies resumed their fluttering. Mom was a wildcard, and as the three of us headed to the dining room, I seemed to be the only nervous one. Dad and Jason had now turned to a discussion about the economy; thankfully, they both had the same opinions. If politics even attempted to creep into the conversation, Mom or I would be all over it. The topics of politics and religion were strictly forbidden at the dining room table.
The first few minutes of dinner were silent. Then Mom decided to start asking questions. I only prayed it didn’t veer into interrogation territory.
“Do you have family, Jason?”
“Yes, my parents and an older sister.”
“What do your parents do?”
“My father is retired military and he now works part time as a security guard. My mother is an administrative assistant for an insurance company.”
“So military is in the blood?”
Both Dad and I shot Mom a look, but she ignored us.
“Yes, my grandfather was a World War II vet and my father had a twenty-year career before he was honorably discharged.”
“Would you expect your son or daughter to join the military?”
“Gillian, the young man doesn’t have any children.” He turned to Jason. “You don’t have children, right?”
“No, sir. No children. And to answer your question, Gillian, I wouldn’t expect my children to do anything. If they didn’t want to join the armed forces that would be perfectly okay with me. You see, the reason I joined was because I wanted to pursue a college education, and I knew my family couldn’t afford it any other way, so that became my career path. I served two tours in Afghanistan and was honorably discharged thirteen months ago after my commitment was up.”
“You ever kill anyone?”
“Gill, enough,” Dad said. The stern tone of his voice broke the tension of the dinner table. “We don’t talk politics or religion at this table and those are your rules, and I suspect this line of questioning is heading there, so this discussion is over.”
Mom stared at Dad from across the table and seemed to snap out of whatever train of thought she’d been on. She gazed down at her dinner plate, nearly untouched, and seemed to
collect her thoughts.
“Yes, I apologize,” she said. “My questions were out of line. Honey, pass the mashed potatoes,” she said to me.
And with that the inquisition was over. Mom was mostly silent for the rest of the meal. Dad took over conversation and he and Jason chatted like they’d known each other for years. I stole a glance at Mom whose cheeks were a little flushed, probably more from the glass of red wine she’d downed than her possible embarrassment. I wanted to be mad at her, but I actually was feeling sorry for her.
“Let me help with the dishes,” Jason said as I carried them into the kitchen.
“Sorry,” I whispered to him when we were safely alone.
“Don’t worry about it. I prepared myself.”
“I’m a bit mortified.”
“It’s okay, trust me,” he said, giving me a quick hug.
While we loaded up the dishwasher, Mom came in. “Ready for dessert?” she asked. I could see on her face how hard she was trying to put the last half hour behind her. “We’re having chocolate cake. Do you like chocolate cake, Jason?”
“Love it.”
“We’ll get the cake and coffee together, why don’t you go entertain my husband.”
Jason did as he was asked and disappeared back into the living room.
“I’m sorry,” Mom said, her voice just above a whisper.
“Forget about it.”
“I’ll apologize to him later. I don’t know what got into me.”
Could it have been the liquid courage? Mom wasn’t much of a drinker, but on this evening, she’d had two full glasses of wine. It wasn’t like her, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Jason and his past bothered her that much. Whatever it was, I was letting it go.
CHAPTER 13
Billie Jean’s was a local school hangout, an institution for as long as anyone could remember. Who was Billie Jean? No one knew, but the beer was cheap, and for starving students, nothing else mattered. Anita and I hung out there every once in a while, and it was the perfect place to introduce her and Mike to Jason. We got there early and ordered a couple of beers. Anita texted to say they’d be a few minutes late.