“Isn’t he wonderful?” she whispers.
“Mom, he’s…”
I open my mouth, then close it again. How do I even begin?
Mom, I think this guy might be using you for money.
Mom, Rick is just Derek by another name. They’re ALL just Dereks by another name. Why can’t you see that?
For God’s sake, you’ve known him for approximately five minutes and he’s already eyeing your daughter like she’s on the menu.
But who am I to talk? I’m still wearing Bastian’s pullover, for crying out loud. If that isn’t “hot mess express” in size XL, what is?
After all, the same man who gave me this sweatshirt is literally bribing me to work for him. Well, sort of bribing, sort of extorting, but same difference. Point is, Rick’s basically doing the exact same thing to Mom, just with less money and more beer.
Maybe I’m not qualified to give relationship advice. From an objective perspective, I’m just as much of a disaster as she is.
“He seems… nice,” I finally manage.
Mom looks overjoyed. “I knew you’d like him!”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You will, though,” she assures me. “He’s such a charmer, Elly. Once you get to know him, you can’t help but fall in love.”
Right on cue, I hear a belch from the living room. He’s got A+ comedic timing, I’ll give him that.
“Sure, Mom, yeah. It’s just… Don’t you think this is all a little soon? Like, maybe it’s happening a little fast?”
Shit.I shouldn’t have said that. As soon as the words leave my lips, it’s like someone cranked down the dimmer switch on Mom’s joy. Those old, angry lines etched in around her mouth appear again in sharp relief.
“Fast?” she echoes.
“I’m just saying, isn’t it?—”
“You know what your problem is, Eliana?” She’s not whispering anymore. “You think you’re better than me. You’ve always thought that.”
“Mom, hold on, I don’t think?—”
“Ever since you were old enough to talk, you’ve thought you’re better than your mother. And worst of all, youhateseeing me happy. You’ve always,alwayshated it.” Her hands are shaking now, the dishtowel in her hands trembling like a red flag in the wind. “But at least I’m not alone. I have someone.”
I take a step back, and then another, until my shoulders bump the counter and there’s nowhere else to go.
She advances on me. “Guess what? I amhappy, Eliana. For the first time in months, I’m actually happy. And you can’t even be supportive for five minutes.”
From the living room, Rick calls out, “Everything okay in there, G?”
“Everything’s fine!” she calls back, her voice suddenly syrupy sweet. Then, quieter, to me: “Maybe you should just go.”
There are so many things I want to say, but I don’t have the heart to really give voice to them. Contrary to what she seems to think, I do want my mom to be happy.
I’veseenher happy before. I have so many good memories of that. We got caught in the rain one time on our way into the grocery store. I must’ve been six or seven. But instead of panicking or dragging us under the nearest awning to wait out the storm, she laughed and made me dance with her in the puddles while she sang showtunes at the top of her lungs. And when the rain stopped, a rainbow appeared. I’d never seen her smile so big or laugh so loud.
That’shappiness. This? Fetching beers for a skeezy creep with overly adventurous hands and repulsive beer burps? That can’t be happiness. Trying desperately to plug each new ill-fitting man into a Derek-shaped hole cannot be happiness.
But if that’s what she thinks she wants, I won’t be the one to take it from her. She’s had a hard enough life already.
“Alright. Yeah, I’ll go. I’m sorry, Mama. I love you.”
