"You don't know my mother. The only thing worse than not taking me with you was leaving me there to listen to her nagging."
"She can't be that bad."
"Like I said, you have no idea." She stared at me with antagonism all over her features. "You can't tell me you didn't see how rude she was."
"If you thought so, you didn't have to act the same way."
"So you're turning this on me?"
I dragged my chair closer to hers and kissed her cheek again, lingering a little. "No. All I'm saying is that you were sulkier as dinner went on. If you feed negative energy, nothing good can come from it."
"I agree with that, but trust me, my mother is the limit."
"So without having to ask any more questions, I now understand your reluctance to come home."
She nodded, lowering her head. "Yeah, the constant bickering wears on my nerves."
"Which is why you're here now."
"I couldn't wait to get away, but in any case I'd have come to see you. Mom is just more of a catalyst."
"It's kind of like that with my father. He's supportive, but he thinks differently from me."
"And I bet they don't get that whole thing about living a little before taking on marriage and a family."
"You know it, but I can't complain because I've been living on my terms."
She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. "I wish she'd allow me to do the same."
"You're over five hundred miles from her when you're over there, so what's your excuse for allowing her to interfere in your life?"
She didn't answer and I added, "Understand that I'm asking you this only because you seem convinced that's what she does."
"Well for one thing I dread her calls, and she makes it a point to talk to me at least once every week."
When I smiled, Gina frowned. "What's so amusing?"
"I am wondering if you are listening to yourself. You're thirty-one and complaining about your mother, who lives in another country. You are the one allowing her to run your life."
"You're no better. You talk to yours every week."
"Everyotherweek most times. But she doesn't intimidate me. I accommodate her out of love and she can't tell me who to see."
"Are you saying I'm a coward?"
I turned my chair to face hers and tipped her chin to look directly at her eyes. "No, I'm not. All I'm saying is that you have to set some boundaries and stick with them."
"When I wanted to do that yesterday, you wouldn't let me." Gina’s tone was bitter, as if she missed the point I tried to make.
"No, what you were doing was out of spite. There's a difference."
She avoided connecting with me and sighed. "Can we talk about something else?"
"Why?"
Gina rolled her eyes and pouted. "Because I'm tired of talking about my mother."
She slid a hand under my tee-shirt and made tiny circles, with her fingertip, in my navel. Leaning forward, she spoke against my lips. "And I can think of something way more entertaining to occupy our time."
