She smiles when she sighs and rolls her eyes. "You're a big girl."
"That's right, and?"
"You can take care of yourself."
"And?"
"And I trust you," she concedes, though I know she doesn't believe herself, despite wanting to. For my sake, at least. "So,Carlin?" She waggles her brows. "What are y'all up to? Can we meet him when we come visit?"
"Mama, I'm too busy for a visit."
"You keep saying that. It's almost spring break, won't you have time then? You promised you'd come home, but now you're staying. Can't we at least come?"
"I think we should wait until the summer when I really have time to relax and I get the house fixed," I hedge.
"Hmph. We'll see. So, Carlin, huh?"
It's my turn to roll my eyes as I consider indulging the urge to tell her about Grey. "We're just friends."
"You keep saying that too," she teases, assessing me, "but you've got a…I don't know. A look about you."
"A look, huh?"
"You're all shiny and fresh. Did you get a new face cream?"
"Nope."
"Then it's a boy."
I smile at her conspiratorially for a second, then say, "I'm seeing somebody."
She lights up like a firecracker. "Oh, Molly! How long? Who is he? Why didn't you tell me? What does he do?"
I'm too busy laughing to hear the rest of her questions, thought the truth is, Dad's usually around, and he's the last person I'd tell. Not until it's absolutely necessary. "Well, it's new, I haven't told anybody. Um, let's see…he's a teacher at the high school, we have mutual friends. You'd love him, Mama--everybody in town does. He's lived here his whole life, only left for college then came right back to teach."
"What's he teach?"
"Shop," I answer, keeping the coach part to myself. She'll go spelunking on the internet and figure it out if I say too much. "He's really handy--he's the one who's been helping out around the house."
"What's he like?" She's so eager, it's amusing.
"He's generous, kind, loves to be helpful. Keeps to himself. Mama, he was so locked up in his shell, I nearly needed a sledgehammer to crack it open. But once I did…" I sigh happily. "I've never known anybody like him."
"Sounds serious. Is it serious?"
"No, no. It's not serious."Lieees."We're just…hanging out."
For a moment, she watches me thoughtfully, her amusement fading. "You know, I was once just hanging out with a guy, then ended up marrying him too young."
"Mama--" I warn.
"I'm not talking about you," she notes. "I'm talking about me." All of a sudden, she looks so sad. "I was too young--I didn't know myself. Didn't know what I wanted. But then I…well, I was in it." When she catches sight of me, she must see my concern because she says, "Don't get me wrong, honey--I love your father. I do. But I wish I'd waited just a bit. Wish I'd figured it all out a little better before I jumped in. Don't let it get serious with this boy, okay? Date a while. Don't get penned in."
"Do you feel penned in by Dad?" I ask gently.
She sighs. Chuckles. "Sometimes. Don't you?"
I chuckle back--she knows I do. Mom worries. Dad controls.
