“You should bring him over for dinner next week. I’d love to get to know him better. I’ll even fire up the grill.”
“It’s the dead of winter and you hate to grill. What you’re really saying is you want me to grill.”
“Well, it’s no secret that you’re the better cook around here, but I’m sure Bruce could help if you need a second pair of hands.”
“It would be nice if Mr. Solomon paid me for my work before you invited him over for another free meal.”
There’s a pregnant pause between us.
Dammit, I shouldn’t have said that.
“I don’t think I like what you’re insinuating about Bruce. He gave you a job when no one else would. He gave you a job when you threw away your future by quitting college.”
How many times have I heard this before?
“I can always go back to college, Mom.”
“So why don’t you?”
We’ve had this conversation many times. My mother things the solution to all the problems of the world is to gain a higher education, but why would I go into major debt when I don’t have a clue what I want to study? It makes zero sense. She should applaud me for being fiscally smart.
“Why didn’t you ever harass Kyle like this about college?”
“Because he’s a plumber.”
“He wasn’t always a plumber, and I don’t remember you telling him that he threw his life away when he told you over a plate of blueberry pancakes that he wasn’t going to college if he couldn’t play football.”
“You can’t compare yourself to your brother. You’re two different people.”
“Just admit that you coddle your son and demand perfection from your daughter.”
“My son works at an honest trade, owns his own home, and is getting married in three weeks. My daughter lives at home, works for one of my friends, and has only brought her boyfriend home once to meet me.”
“Do you not hear yourself? I’m sorry to have been such a disappointment to you.”
“If that’s what you want to tell your therapist one day, have at it, but that’s not the truth. I treat you both differently because you need different things from me.”
I honestly don’t think my mother has been emotionally capable of giving me what I need since my father died, but that’s an argument for another day.
“I don’t want to get into this now.”
“And just so we’re clear, Bruce would never take advantage of you, Kaya. He’s been nothing but a godsend to this family ever since your dear father passed.”
“I don’t want to talk about Dad and Mr. Solomon in the same conversation.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“It’s not a crime for me to invite Bruce over for dinner from time to time. Your father has been gone for over fourteen years and we are all Bruce has left of him. I’m sure he misses him almost just as much as we do.”
All Bruce has left, my ass.
I’m quite aware that something subtly romantic has been brewing between my mother and Mr. Solomon for a very long time and I can be the first to admit that it makes me uncomfortable. He was my father’s closest friend. Simply put, anything romantic between them is inappropriate in my eyes, and I know Kyle agrees but he’ll just never say anything.
“You think I don’t know how long dad’s been gone?” I say angrily. “Stop pretending that we all don’t know what’s going on. If you’re sleeping with Mr. Solomon, just admit it, but that doesn’t mean I have to work for him for free.”
“Oh, is that how college dropouts talk to their mama’s now? To think that I gave birth to a child who would talk to me in this manner is so upsetting,” her voice cracks.
