“Mom.”
She stops spreading mayonnaise on a piece of bread and looks at me pointedly.
“Jay. Lanier.” I enunciate every syllable, making my eyes as wide as they’ll go.
Her penciled brows press together for a few seconds before popping up into her hair. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah.”
She points the mayo-covered knife toward the hallway. “That’s Jay?”
“Yes.”
She’s nodding now, probably remembering the few times I brought Jay home for about ten minutes. I mean, yeah, I made sure the two of them spent very little time together when we were dating, but still.
“Oh my god,” she says again. “Well, this is a surprise.”
“Clearly.”
Mom cranes her neck around me and eyes the hallway. Her shiny lips spread into a flirty grin. “I think what’s clear is that you have excellent taste in men, baby.”
“Mom. Ew.”
Mom laughs and slaps greasy turkey slices onto her bread. “Do I need to pick up some condoms? I wish you’d go on the Pill, because you don’t want—?”
“God, Mother! He’s a total dick, remember? Can you just . . .” I flap my hands around, trying to grab the right words out of the air. “Can you act like a parent for five damn minutes?” She flinches and I rub at my temples, my head suddenly aching.
“Gracie,” she says, coming to my side. She wraps an arm around my shoulders, and I lean into her for a minute. “I’m sorry, baby. You know how I get when I’m excited.” She smooths her hand over my hair. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking. I know Julian—?Jay—?gave you a hard time a while ago—?”
“‘A hard time’?” She’s making it sound like he got mad and drew devil horns on my yearbook picture or something. The guy posted our sexts for the entire world to see, for christ’s sake. Consequently, everyone at school hoisted him onto their shoulders, and I got a bunch of averted gazes in the hallway. Not that I really wanted their gazes, but it’s the principle of the thing. “Mom, you can’t be serious. There’s no way this is going to work.”
“I’m sure Julian is over it. You’ll see. It’ll be fine. He’s a sweet boy.”
“Mom. He’s an asshole, and now I’m living across from a guy who’s seen my boobs—?”
“So have I.”
“—?and I’m supposed to sister up to him for however many months you and Pete live in la-la land? Can’t you see how messed up this is? You should’ve seen the way he just looked at me in the hall. I mean, ‘It’ll be fine’? Really?”
She bites her lower lip as her eyes search my face. “God, you’re right. I’m sorry, baby. I see how this might be weird for you.”
Weird isn’t exactly the word for it, but still, it’s something. I feel my shoulders relax a little, prepare myself for more packing and moving.
Then she removes her arm from around me and twists her fingers together into a little knot. “But—?”
I press my eyes closed for a few seconds. But. Just. Round and round we go.
“—?Pete makes me happy,” she says. “Maybe you and Julian can work it out, talk it through. Please, baby. This is my chance. Will you just try? And then, before you know it, we’ll be off to New York for a nice break.”
A dull, familiar disappointment fills me up. Whenever I find myself in some awkward situation, I always, always hope. And she never, ever surprises me.
“I’m going out,” I say, moving away from her.
She perks up at that, taking my action as a sign of acceptance. “Good idea. Get some air. Just be back in time for dinner. We’re going to eat as a family; won’t that be great?”
I grab my messenger bag back from the barstool where Mom dropped it earlier and head for the door. With my hand on the doorknob, I turn back and meet my mother’s desperate gaze. I fight the urge to stay, to help her unpack, to make sure she eats that sandwich she’s making, to say, “Yeah, that’ll be swell.”
Instead, I leave without a word.
