I never expected that to happen with my parents, least of all my mom, but as she stands in the center of my living space with Blake in her arms, it’s almost like she’s reacquainting herself with my life or perhaps viewing it through a different lens now that she knows about Emmett.
I know that this is hard for her. Hell, if Blake dropped the kind of news on me that I have with Mom, I’d be fully reeling for weeks.
But now that I’m a mom myself, I’d also be eager to ensure that Blake knew I’d never turn my back on her, no matter what decisions she made or who she fell in love with.
“Did you change the color in here?” Mom asks, squinting at the walls as she bounces Blake against her chest.
It’s typical that the first question she asks has an answer involving my boyfriend.
“Emmett spent a whole day refreshing the walls before the playoffs started,” I reply without any hesitation. Ipoint toward my bedroom and cringe at what she must think I’m about to say next. “There was mold on the ceiling above my bed. It wasn’t dangerous, but Emmett wanted to make sure it was removed.”
Yeah, that didn’t land the way you’d planned, Bill. Why don’t you go ahead and mention your bed and Emmett again?
Nodding once, Mom pushes past the conversation, moving into my kitchen and transferring Blake into a cradle hold so she can start emptying bottles from Blake’s overnight bag into the sterilizer.
The awkward atmosphere is bordering unbearable right now.
“How’s work?” I ask as brightly as I can.
Closing the lid on the machine, Mom spins on her heel and leans back against the counter.
She looks tired, and so does her work uniform. The wrinkles in her white blouse are a rare occurrence and a sure sign that she’s struggling with even the simplest tasks in everyday life.
“No change. Although your dad is now starting to pick up some hours, which is taking the pressure off a little.”
It’s not lost on me that in my parents discovering the truth about Emmett, their marriage has also been under immense strain.
Stepping toward her, I take Blake from Mom, although I don’t put any space between us, choosing to lean into the building tension. We need to talk, and even if it’s the most uncomfortable exchange we’ve ever had, I’ll be damned if I let her drive to work when we have the perfect opportunity to voice our thoughts now that some time has passed for us to gather them.
“How are things between you both?” I tentatively ask.
Her eyes fall to the floor. “Quiet. There’s a huge elephant in the room whenever we’re sitting down for dinner or watching TV, and neither of us knows how to address it. I know he’s sorry about the shares, but he’s also closed off like I’ve never seen him before.”
“A bit like how things are between us,” I muse, the correlation painfully obvious.
Mom’s eyes snap to mine. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Teeth press into her bottom lip. “While I was shocked by everything that came out, I want you to know that Scott’s lies about money hasn’t been the only topic we’ve argued over.”
“No?”
“No,” she repeats. “I don’t agree with some of the comments and accusations Scott pointed at Emmett; neither do I think that he deserved to be punched.”
Blake wraps her hand around my finger, and I close my eyes to block the tears from falling.
When I reopen them, Mom is standing even closer.
“Are you in love with him, Billie?”
I croak out a, “Yes.”
It’s obvious that she already knew the answer; I can see it in the warm smile Mom offers.
“You know that you are always welcome to come over for dinner whenever you want. We have both missed you and Blake terribly.”
I nod an acknowledgment. “Does the invitation extend to Emmett?”
She winces. “If it were left up to me, then yes. I personally believe that we should rip the Band-Aid off and talk everything through.” Mom pauses. “Scott … he isn’t ready for that.”
