22
When I got home, I had to sneak around the side of the house to go through the basement apartment front door. I changed out of the previous day's outfit and into a fresh pair of jeans and a volunteer shirt. I put my dirty clothes in the hamper. It was full, so I decided to start a load of laundry. While the washer spun up I did a bit of tidying around the living room, not wanting to leave the mess any longer.
It was when I started cleaning out my closet that I realized I was just stalling.
I was dreading talking to my parents. But I'd promised Nathan.
Steeling myself, I went up the stairs to the main floor, pausing on the last step. Maybe they weren't even home. Maybe Mom was out shopping for groceries. Maybe Dad was working overtime at the office. Maybe I could avoid having this conversation for one more day.
But when I opened the door, I saw my mom sitting at the kitchen table, playing a mobile game on her phone. She looked up to greet me with a beaming smile. So she hadn't realized I'd been gone all night. That was a plus.
"Hi, honey," she said. "Did you have a good sleep?"
"Hey, Mom," I replied. "Yeah, I had a restful night. Um. Where's Dad?"
"He's out picking up some milk." Her lips pressed into a firm line. "He forgot to do it last night, so we couldn't have breakfast this morning." The words were accusatory, not aimed at me, but aimed at my dad's absent presence.
So they'd already gotten into it this morning. Wonderful.
"When do you think he'll be back?" I asked.
"He just left," she said. "Why?"
Would it be easier to tell them one at a time and halve the outrage I might face? Or would it be better to tell them both at the same time and get it over with, like ripping off a Band-Aid?
I hated that Nathan had been made to feel bad about our relationship. I didn't want to put this off any longer.
"I have something to tell you," I said.
My mom sat up in alarm. "What is it? Are you feeling okay? Is something wrong? Did something happen?"
"No, Mom, I'm fine," I said. "I just need to talk to you about something."
The anxiety didn't leave her face. She pushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ears. She always did that when she was bracing herself for bad news.
I didn't think this was bad news. It should have been wonderful news. I'd found someone who cared about me. But maybe she wouldn't see it that way.
I took a seat across from her at the kitchen table.
"You can tell me anything, honey." I knew she was trying to be reassuring, but the words came out fearful and desperate.
I didn't want to leave her worrying for too long. It would only make things harder. I wished this wasn't such a big deal. For any other person, this conversation wouldn't be. But I wasn't any other person and my mom wasn't a regular mom.
I inhaled deeply, steadying myself. Best to get it over with.
"I'm seeing someone," I told her.
The expression on her face froze. I waited for some sort of emotion to reappear. Shock or surprise or worry. Something.
"I see," was all she said, her voice tight and robotic. A strand of hair fell from behind her ear, falling against her cheek. She didn't bother to push it back.
"He's a really great guy," I said.
"And where exactly did you meet this great guy?"
She was wondering because I so rarely went out. I worked and volunteered and came home. Did she think I'd picked him up at a club or something?
Well, that wasn't totally far from the truth.
