I shrug. “No reason. I guess I just didn't think to.”
Mom wipes her hands on a kitchen towel and stares at me. “Aren’t you upset?”
“Sure,” I lie. More of a fib, really. Lies imply a degree of malice. Fibs protect. Sometimes, anyway.
The hamburger meat is brownish gray now, all the pink cooked out. I set down the wooden spoon I’ve been using to stir and step back from the stove. “I’m going to take off.”
If I hadn't looked her way, I wouldn’t have seen the hurt that flitted across my mom’s face. But I did, and now I feel bad. Just not enough to keep me here.
“Save me some?”
“Of course.” She nods as she adds the cooked veggies into the pan with the meat. “For someone who was broken up with recently, you seem a little too happy.” She eyes me for a moment, then turns her attention to folding the mixture.
My hand runs through my hair as I wait for her to ask the question. When she’s finished folding, she knocks the spoon against the rim of the pan. Utensil poised in mid-air, she turns to me. “Was there someone else? Were you cheating on Kelsey?” Her face is calm, no judgment furrowing her brows or challenging gleam in her eyes.
I screw up my face, the very opposite of her stoic expression. “That’s a terrible question to ask. Do you think I would do that?”
“If you did, I would need to know. So I can be ahead of it. Manage the damage. Laurel will be furious if she finds out.” She turns back to the stove, lifting the pan and turning down the burner. The orange flame changes from yellow to orange to blue as it dwindles, and then it disappears.
My mother’s lavender silk blouse is protected by an apron as she pours the meat and veggie mixture into a pie plate. In this exact moment she looks like a classy homemaker, but I’m not letting this once-in-a-decade scratch-cooking routine fool me. She’s a shark.
“I didn’t cheat, Mom.” I can’t throw Kelsey under the bus. She didn’t tell her mother what really happened, and I won’t be the one to say it. “Sometimes things just don’t work out. You’ve been with dad forever, so maybe you’ve forgotten that.”
When she turns around, she is less poised. A moment ago, she was unmoved by the possibility of me cheating on Kelsey, maybe even callous about it, but that has been replaced by some emotion I can’t name.
“I’ve been married to your father for twenty-two years, but my memory stretches back a bit further.” She slams her hands into baking mitts and slides the pie into the oven.
“Sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.” She waves off my apology. “I’m fine. You should go to wherever it is you're going.”
For a second I consider telling her about Ember. How just the thought of her makes my heart race like it wants to burst from my chest and run a marathon. How the only other time I’ve been this excited was when I was a freshman and saw my name on the roster for varsity soccer. That was the day I stopped being known only as Brody Sutton’s little brother. Finally I was making a name for myself.
If my mom had a modicum of understanding, if she weren’t so embroiled in living a life free from emotion and love, maybe I would tell her about the girl I stumbled upon.
“Bye, Mom.” I reach out for her, but she’s facing away from me now. Her back is rigid, her shoulders stiff, and she says goodbye to the air instead of me.
I feel bad leaving like this, but I have somewhere to be. By the time I’m halfway to the lake, thoughts of my mom and the kitchen conversation drift away. Images of Ember fill my brain, and excitement sweeps my body until I’m pulsing with adrenaline. It’s the same feeling that comes over me when I’m preparing to take the field, a stadium filled with cheering students and parents surrounding me.
Like yesterday, I come upon an empty parking lot. According to the clock on my dash, I’m five minutes late.
My heart heavy, my adrenaline decreasing at a steady rate, I climb from my car. On uncertain legs I walk the trail I blazed yesterday afternoon. She won’t stand me up a second time, will she? I get closer to the lake and see red. It’s stark against the colors of the landscape. I think it’s officially my favorite color.
I make it through the trees and onto the sand. Ember grins when she sees me.
“You came,” she says, glancing at her watch. Her chest heaves with her relief.
I walk to where she sits on the smooth, flat rock, legs dangling off the side.
“I would never no-show. That would be rude.”
She laughs, head thrown back, and I know in this very moment, I will always see this image when I think of happiness.
“You’re beautiful.” I should be embarrassed to be that forward. Aren’t I supposed to keep all my thoughts and feelings to myself? I’m in front of her now, and I can’t hide from what I said. The words float between us, growing bigger and wider by the second, like block lettering in an advertisement.
Ember doesn't shy away from my compliment. She doesn't demure, say something about how it’s her new make-up, or try to brush it off. She tilts her head up and smiles, soaking in my compliment, unabashed and unafraid.
I’ve never been so attracted to anybody in my whole life.
