I can tell you one thing for sure—we would not be taking the tent down.
“I slept pretty good, actually,” she says as she breaks down the poles and gathers them together. “You’re good at snuggling.”
“Now there’s a compliment. Besides my strong chin, I’m a good snuggler—something to keep in mind.”
“Maybe something to put on the dating profile.”
“If I ever joined one of those apps, I would.”
“You haven’t been on them?” she asks, sounding surprised as the tent falls all the way to the ground.
“No,” I answer. “Just…I don’t know, haven’t really thought about being with anyone, and I feel like people who go to those apps, at least the right people, are looking for a relationship, you know? And I don’t want to do them a disservice by not wanting to be in a relationship.”
“Ever?” she asks.
“No, not ever. Just, I guess, when I’m ready.”
“Not to pry, but you know, we’ve talked a lot about me. So it’s your turn. When do you think you’ll be ready?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly as I start rolling up the sleeping bag that was pulled from the tent before we started taking it down. “I think when everything just seems…right. If that makes sense.”
“Can I ask what that means?”
I can see her tiptoeing, clearly after an answer that I’m uncomfortable talking about. Then again, she’s talked about a lot of uncomfortable things, so maybe it’s time for me to share.
“Uh, well, with Mika. I want him to be comfortable, mentally healthy. I feel like I have some baggage where my mom is concerned and with my dad’s death and his accident. There are some things to unpack there.”
“I thought you said baggage wasn’t a bad thing.”
“It’s not,” I say, looking her in the eyes. “It’s really not. But I haven’t really dealt with my own baggage, so how can I inflict that on someone who wants to be in a relationship with me, you know?”
“I understand that,” she says. She sticks the poles in the tent bag. “Mika said that your mom cheated on your dad.” When she looks up at me, she winces. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. It was a dark moment for him when he told me.”
I pause, my limbs going still as the words float around us, just out there in the world. Words I try to ignore, to suppress, because it’s such a fucked-up situation.
My dad was in a horrible car accident that left him quadriplegic. It was tough on everyone, especially my mom, who had to work extra hours to pay for his home care and then come home and take care of us. She…she was stressed, she didn’t have my father the way she used to, and one night, after hearing Mom on the phone with someone clearly making a time to meet, Mika followed her to our dad’s best friend’s place. He saw them kiss inthe front doorway, and from what looked like clothes coming off quickly, he surmised the rest. She owned up to it when she got home.
It was devastating to say the least. From there, it felt like everything fell apart.
And shortly after, my dad ended up passing. I went to college, Mika dropped out of college and became a full-time bartender, and we haven’t really healed from the situation. Well, I’ve had conversations with my mom, come to peace with it, but Mika, not so much.
“I’m, uh, I’m surprised Mika told you that,” I say as I stick the sleeping bag in the bin.
“He doesn’t tell me much about your family, honestly, but it was during his rough time, and mine at that. It was a drunk night. He was raging about Matt and then mentioned that at least Matt didn’t cheat on me like his mom cheated on your dad. He said it in passing, and I wasn’t really sure if it was true or not, but I guess seeing the way you treat this marriage counseling thing and the way you look after Mika, I just put two and two together. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping.”
I shake my head. “You’re not. You’re Mika’s friend first, so I guess there are some things you know about my family that I might not have thought that you knew.”
“That’s about it.”
I nod and then start rolling up the tent. “Yeah, well, I’ve come to peace with my mom and what she did. I don’t agree with it, but I also understand it. My dad didn’t even talk. He was…he was not the man that he was before the accident. It was hard on her, and I sound like I’m making excuses.”
“You’re not,” Scottie says. “That’s…that’s a tough situation. I honestly can’t imagine. I know what it’s like to feel loneliness. I’ve been there. Sure, Matt was able to walk and talk, but I alsolived in a house with a man who didn’t care to acknowledge or appreciate me. I know what that could do to a person.”
I look up at her, the understanding in her eyes breaking down a wall inside me that I didn’t even know existed. Because…she gets it. It’s so hard talking to people about my mom, especially Mika. I don’t agree with or condone what my mom did. It’s terrible actually, but then again, if I step back and I put myself in her shoes, how could I possibly observe as a bystander and judge her? She lost her husband in that car accident. She was taking care of two kids. Being a caretaker for her husband who couldn’t even acknowledge her. Working overtime. She was stressed and…and needed that comfort. Was it wrong? Yes. Do I understand it? I sort of do.
And anyone I’ve mentioned it to has judged my mom, chastised her, said what a horrible person she is, but I know she’s not. I know she’s not that woman.
But Scottie…she gets it. She fucking gets it.
