Mom walks in a few minutes later, stunning with her new cut,dressed in a winter cream sheath and gold cuff choker, smelling of lilac and smiling wide. She hugs me and Rayne. Uncle Mo stands to greet her.
He takes both of her hands in his and leans in to kiss her cheek. “Beautiful as always, Bee.”
No one calls her Bee except him.
“Thanks, Mo. You’re looking sharp yourself.”
“Just trying to keep up with all these young bucks.”
“You’ve got them beat.” She laughs, a high tinkling sound. Their hands still haven’t let go.
Dinner is a lively affair, full of conversation and laughter. Val comes out from the kitchen to visit. Even though he’s semiretired, he still comes here to cook on occasion. The family seafood platter we share is an epic feast—lobster, king crab, jumbo scallops, colossal shrimp. The shells are cracking, the butter dripping, and the glasses are filled with wine.
Uncle Mo isn’t anything like his older brother. He’s pleasant, engaged. He asks questions. He looks through my online portfolio, thinking my art speaks, that it’s not a waste of talent.
“Your father must be happy to have you home,” he says.
“I don’t know ifhappyis the word I’d use.”
He chuckles, but my mother sends me a look. Disappointed. She wants so badly for my father and me to be close like Rayne and Uncle Mo, but that’s a pipe dream.
“Maurice is all bark,” he says, his voice gentle. “He might not give you the words or sentiment, but he’s happy.”
“He hides it well.”
“Lot.”
“Sorry, Ma.”
I change the subject. We start talking about Rayne’s potential mayoral run. Uncle Mo beams as she lays out her plans.
During dessert, I notice small exchanges between my mother and uncle. He always treats her like she matters. I know they have a deepaffection for each other, but tonight, it has my mind assembling the various pieces. Mom wearing her special perfume and lipstick during the day. Her new hairstyle. Her glow. It can’t just be a coincidence that Rayne thinks Uncle Mo is seeing someone too. Can it?
When the bill arrives, my uncle insists on paying. We thank him and my mother excuses herself. I follow her to the restroom, leaving Rayne and her dad to linger over the last sips of wine.
Mom is standing in front of the mirror, applying a fresh coat of lipstick.
“This was so nice,” she says. “I’m glad we could all get together. I so enjoy Mo’s company.”
There are only two stalls, both doors ajar. We’re alone.
“Are you having an affair with him?”
She startles at my blunt question. Her eyes blink twice before she turns to me. “Why on earth would you ask me such a thing?”
“Why are you dodging the question?”
“I’m not dodging. I’m shocked by the accusation.”
“I would never judge you, Mom. I know your morals. I know how seriously you take marriage. But being with someone like Maurice… I imagine that kind of coldness could wear on you. If you turned to Uncle Mo for affection, I would understand. And if you wanted to leave Maurice, I’d support you. Completely.”
“Lot,” she says, taking my hand. “Mo is wonderful, and I love him dearly. But we are not having an affair. Quite the opposite, actually. He’s getting to know someone he recently met. I couldn’t be happier for him. And I have no intention of leaving your father. I’m in love with him. He’s the only man I want to be with.”
I stare at her, speechless.
“I knew when you were younger that you wished Mo was your father. Wished I’d picked him instead. I didn’t realize you still harbored those feelings.”
“That’s not it. The hair… the perfume…”
