“I don’t know,” I admitted. “We haven’t made any other plans. It’s hard because getting away is so tough for him.”
“Well then, you should go there. Hang out with him at home. Meet Scotty,” Skylar said firmly.
I lifted my shoulders. “I’ve offered, so we’ll see. I think he’s nervous about it. I’m nervous about it.”
“Of course you are,” Natalie said. “It’s more pressure than meeting someone’s parents. This is a person you’d have to live with, if things worked out. There’s a lot to consider.”
I held up my hands. “Whoa. Don’t jinx me. We have strong feelings for each other, but it’s only been a month. And I do think there’s merit in going slow.” Deep breath. “I just want to keep going forward. Somehow.”
• • •
Late that night, so late I was already in bed with the lights out, he called me again.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” His voice was low and hushed.
“Hey.”
“Did I wake you?”
“No. I’m in bed, but I wasn’t asleep yet.”
“Thinking?”
“Yeah.”
“About what?”
“About you. About last night. Truthfully, it’s been hard to think about anything else all day.”
“I’m so sorry about how it ended.”
“That isn’t what I meant, silly.” I rolled onto my side. “I was thinking about it in a good way.”
“I know. I’m still sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. One interrupted night isn’t the end of the world. It was bad luck. We can give it some time and try again.”
“Sure. I’ve been thinking about it today too…and it really was my fault.”
“What was?”
“The meltdown. Not only did I forget to pack the nightlight, but he’d had a really tough week at school. I should’ve known going off the routine was a bad idea.”
“Math again?”
“Among other things, but yes—he has a lot of anxiety about math tests, even though he can have the tests read to him, and he gets extra time.”
“I used to get nervous about math tests too. Not that my anxiety is anything like Scotty’s,” I said quickly, “but I remember the nervous feeling. And you know what my dad did?”
“What?”
I laughed at the memory, which I hadn’t thought about in years. “He gave me a lucky stone.”
“A what?”
“A lucky stone—at least he claimed it was lucky. It was this Petoskey stone he’d found on the beach. He polished it for me, and I’d keep it in my pocket, then take it out and put it on my desk during a test. Or hold it in my left hand.”
“How old were you?”
“Maybe second or third grade?”
“I’m trying to picture you at Scotty’s age. What did you look like?”
I giggled. “Tall. Skinny. One shoe always untied.”
“Adorable. So did the rock work?”
“It did. I totally believed him that it was lucky, and I remember feeling much more confident about tests when I had it in my hand. Got any lucky stones lying around?”
He laughed softly. “I’ll have to look. Anything is worth a try.”
“I agree. And really, don’t feel bad about last night. If you’re going to think about it, think about the good parts.”
“There were lots of those.”
“There were.” My whole body tingled, and I hugged my knees to my chest.
“Can I see you this weekend?”
“Of course.” I crossed my fingers and ankles. Invite me to your house. Let me meet your son.
“I need to check with my regular sitter, but would Friday work?”
“Sure. That’s actually my birthday.”
“Get the fuck out. It is?”
I laughed. “Yes. I definitely wouldn’t invent a birthday. Who wants to keep getting older?”
“We have to celebrate. I want to take you somewhere nice. Are you sure Friday night is open? Your family doesn’t want you on your birthday?”
“I’m celebrating with family on Sunday. Friday’s yours if you want it. I actually took the entire day off.”
“Did you really?”
“Yes.” I took a breath. “You know, if you can’t get your sitter, I could come to your house or something…” I left it dangling, hoping he’d grab on.
“Maybe. We’ll see. Wouldn’t be much of a date that way. And by that I mean there wouldn’t be any birthday sex. I’d be very, very sad about that. And it isn’t even my birthday.”
I had to laugh. “OK, well, let me know. I only wanted you to know I’m up for that.”
“I know you are, and I appreciate it.” He paused. “I love you.”
I hugged my knees. “I love you too.”
“Night.”
“Night.”
Setting my phone on my nightstand, I curled up again under the covers. I was a little disappointed he hadn’t offered to introduce me to Scotty yet, but I had to trust he’d know the right time. We were in love, yes, but it still felt young and fragile. Maybe more time was best.
I had a surprise visitor the next day at work.
“Knock, knock, darling.”
But she didn’t really knock. She just came right in.
“Mom. Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I was doing some shopping down this way and thought I’d stop by.” She tucked her silvery bob behind one ear. She’d gone completely gray in her thirties, so any day now I was expecting to wake up with a beard and head full of white, but so far it was only a few strays here and there.
“Come in.” I gestured to the chairs in front of my desk. Since leaving my uncle’s firm, I worked for myself and rented office space in a building downtown. Working from home sounds good in theory, but I did it for a while and found it hard to separate home from work—I found it much easier to get shit done in both environments when I wasn’t tempted to avoid work in one by taking up a chore in the other.
“I was wondering if you had time for lunch, actually.” She raised her eyebrows at me hopefully.
I frowned at the work on my desk and rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know, Mom. I have a lot of things to get done before a meeting at Scotty’s school at two.”
“Oh? About the IEP?”
“Yes. Among other things.”
“Well, let’s grab a quick bite and you can fill me in. I like to know how things are going with him, and we haven’t had a chance to talk much. You’re so busy these days.”
Fucking Mom Guilt. Nothing worse. “I know, Mom. Sorry, I just don’t have a lot of spare time.”
“I’m not blaming you, darling,” she said breezily. “I merely want to know how you’re doing.”
I fought off the groan building in the pit of my stomach and turned it into more of an exasperated sigh. “I wish you would have called first. I could have planned for lunch with you.”
“You’d have turned me down. I know you.” She arched a brow at me, then smiled cajolingly. “Come on. Humor your old ma. I won’t be around forever, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. She might have just turned sixty, but she was as healthy and active as someone half her age. “OK. A quick bite.”
She beamed. “Thank you. Shall we go now or do you need to finish something up?”
“We can go now.” I closed my laptop. “I’ll pick up my dry-cleaning too.”
“I could have done that for you today.” She was saying it to be nice, but somehow I felt it as another scolding—like I should have told her I had dry-cleaning to be picked up.
“I didn’t know you were coming down, Mom. Remember?”
“I know, but if you need help with things at home, I’m happy to do it,” she said, leading the way out of my office, through the little lobby area I shared with an accountant and an attorney. “The drive isn’t that far, and I’d love to see you and Scotty more often.”
I shut my office door and followed her out, taking de
ep breaths. She’s not saying this to criticize you. She’s simply offering to help. “I know, and I appreciate it. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
We walked to a nearby diner and were seated at a small table near the window. After looking at the menu, I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich and she ordered a Reuben. After my iced tea and her Diet Coke arrived, she put her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands.
“So tell me what’s new. How is Scotty? At the birthday dinner, he seemed very preoccupied with his electronics.”
“His iPad. He earns breaks with it when he does what he’s supposed to.”
“Don’t you think he should do what he’s supposed to just because? Won’t he always expect a reward for behaving properly if you keep doing this?”
I stiffened. “If this lunch is about criticizing my parenting, it’s over.”
She held up her hands. “It’s not, it’s not. I’m sorry. You know best.”
“I do.”
“I only worry that as he gets older, it will get tougher on him. The school and his peers aren’t going to treat him like a baby.”
“I don’t treat him like a baby, Mom. I treat him like he needs to be treated to get through his day and feel good about himself.”
“OK, darling, don’t get upset. Without seeing you two every day like I used to, I don’t know the situation. Tell me about the IEP.”
I filled her in on things at school, and she appeared genuinely concerned. “He wet himself? On purpose?”
“Yes. Hoping that it would delay going to school, so he could miss the math test.”
“Oh, the poor thing. I hope he doesn’t do that at school. The kids would be so cruel.”
“I worry about that too,” I admitted. “But I can’t control how other people react to him. I’m trying to help by getting him a few more accommodations at school, but it’s an uphill battle. And I hate those meetings.”
“Why?”
“Because the focus is always on what he’s not doing, or what he’s doing wrong. He has a lot of gifts, and he’s so smart. Why can’t they figure out a way to help him learn based on what he does well? Why force a kid to take a test the same way as every other kid when, neurologically, he is not like those kids?”
“What would help?”
“More time. A separate room without any noise or distractions for testing. Allowing him to give verbal answers.”
“I thought you wanted him in a regular classroom.”
“I do. I’m talking about having a safe space at school where he can go if he needs it. Maybe an aide for at least part of the day.”
“I see.” She lifted her shoulders. “That sounds reasonable.”
“You’d think.”
Our sandwiches arrived, and she waited until the server had refilled our drinks and left before saying anything else.
“OK, I can’t take it anymore. Tell me about her.”
For a second, I blanked. But one look at her eager expression, and I realized. Fucking Monica. I picked up one half of my sandwich. “Her name is Jillian Nixon. She’s a pediatrician.”
“Is she related to Dale and Bunny Nixon?”
“No clue. But I don’t think so. She grew up on a cherry farm on Old Mission.”
“Hm. Maybe a different family, then. I think Dale was originally from downstate.” She looked a little disappointed, then flapped a hand before picking up her sandwich. “Oh well. So tell me more. Monica mentioned you met her at a wedding?”
“Yes.” I gave her a sanitized version of our meeting eleven years ago and told her we’d run into each other—sort of literally—at Sebastian’s wedding.
“The lawyer?”
“Yes. His wife is Jillian’s sister.”
“How nice.” She smiled and touched her lips with her napkin. “So you’ve been seeing her about a month?”
“About that.”
“And it’s going well?”
“It is.”
I said nothing further, and she sighed dramatically. “For heaven’s sake, Levi. You’re killing me.”
“How so?”
“Because this is the first woman you’ve talked about in years, and I’m thrilled for you, and you won’t give me more than the vital stats and two-word answers.”
I swallowed a bite. “It’s new.”
“Another two words. Can I at least have four please?”
Taking another bite, I chewed and thought. “I like her a lot. There, that’s five.”
Another sigh. She put her Reuben down, a hurt expression on her face. “You’re punishing me. I get it.”
“Do you?” Haha, another two words. I kind of liked this game.
“Yes. You moved out because I was all up in your business, as Monica tells me, and now you’ve shut me out completely. Am I really that bad?”
I popped the final piece of my sandwich in my mouth and thought about how to answer that. “Sometimes.”
“Is that really why you moved out?”
“Monica said that?”
“Only because I was griping about never seeing you. She said you’ve been busy and told me you’d been seeing someone. I was shocked that I had no idea. And hurt. I want to be in your life, Levi. And Scotty’s life.”
“I know, Mom. And I want you to be in it. But you have to stop telling me I’m doing everything wrong.”
She put a hand on her chest. “I never said you’re doing everything wrong!”
“Well, that’s how you make me feel. Look, I know you think I screwed up and got someone pregnant.”
“Levi!” She sat back, her expression stunned, maybe even hurt. “I have never said that to you.”
“I guess I just felt it then. Like Monica did everything right—college, marriage, children—and I was the fuckup.”
“That is not me talking.” She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “My grandchildren are the light of my life and every one of them was destined to enter this world and be loved to pieces by me, whether they were a surprise or not. And your dad and I did not raise any fuckups.”
I had to smile at hearing her use that word, but it was short-lived. “You criticized me so much as Scotty got older that it made me feel that way. Like you thought I couldn’t possibly be mature or smart enough to handle parenting a child on my own.”
“Not once did I think that. All parents criticize their children’s parenting skills! It’s our right as grandparents!”
I considered that. “Maybe I was extra sensitive, then. I already felt bad enough that Scotty was going to grow up without a mother, and as he grew and it was clear he wasn’t a typical kid, I felt even less sure of myself.”
My mother leaned forward and spoke softer. “I could see that, Levi. So I tried to help the best way I could. I managed to raise two beautiful, smart, amazing people. I thought I had something to offer you.”
“You did,” I said. “You offered me and Scotty a home and helped me take care of him when he was a baby. I needed that, and I’m so grateful. But I got to a point where I really wanted to find my way on my own, and I couldn’t do that living in your house.”
Her shoulders slumped a bit. “I see your point. It’s hard not to mother your child just because he’s an adult, especially when he lives with you. I guess I saw you struggling and couldn’t resist trying to make it all better.”
“You can’t.” My tone was firm.
“Back to two words, huh?”
I cracked a tiny smile.
“I saw that,” she teased. Sighing, she sat up straight again. “OK. So no more criticizing. I will listen when you need to talk and try my very hardest to let you do things your way and not say a word, even if I disagree.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“And in return,” she went on smoothly, “please tell me more about Jillian. Monica said she hasn’t met Scotty?”
“Not yet.” I focused on the other half of my sandwich.
“I think that’s wise, really I do.”
“I agree.”
“You don’t want to introduce her too soon and confuse Scotty about who she is, especially if it doesn’t work out. And for her sake, you don’t want to make it seem like you’re simply looking for a replacement mother.”
“She would never think that. And it couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Plus you need time alone together. Romantic time,” she said authoritatively. “Just because one of you has a child doesn’t mean you shouldn’t treat her to a proper courtship.”
I almost laughed. Yes, that’s exactly what I was doing against her refrigerator Saturday night. Treating her to a proper courtship. “What was that about promising not to meddle?”
He face went blank as she picked up her Diet Coke. “I never said anything about not meddling. No mother in her right mind would ever promise not to meddle. I promised not to criticize so much.”
“Oh.”
“And anyway, I hope you’ll like this meddling, because I want to do something for you.”
“What’s that?”
She grinned. “How about if Dad and I come down and stay with Scotty for a weekend? Or even a night? Don’t get mad, but Monica told me what happened Saturday night. I felt terrible for you.”
I groaned, setting my sandwich down. “Fucking Monica.”
“Well, you know she can’t keep a secret, darling. You can’t lie and she can’t keep a secret. That’s always been the way you two are.”
I sucked up some iced tea, wondering if it was too early for some whiskey.
“Anyway,” she went on breezily. “What do you think of my offer? I promise to do everything exactly the way you want me to. Scotty can stick to his regular routine in his normal environment, your dad and I get some quality time with him, and you get alone time with your lady friend.”
My lady friend. Jillian would love that one.
Should I do it? God, I was so tempted. If she meant what she said, and she’d stick to Scotty’s routine without any “improvements” or surprises, he might be OK. Staying at Monica’s had been a change in routine and a change in environment. This had the potential to go a lot smoother. Maybe I’d try it for a night, and if it went well, we could do a weekend eventually.
Some Sort of Love: A Happy Crazy Love Novel Page 14