“That’s awesome, Mom. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, sweetie. Just one more hour. We can do this. We can do this.” She sounds more frantic than usual. Maybe a little stressed, even though it obviously could not be going any better. Clearly this all meansa lotto her and now that the fish fry is in sight, the stakes just went up.
She turns to get back to work but then doubles back like she remembered something. “I was thinking after we get cleaned up here, we should do something to celebrate. Ice cream, a movie, anything you want. You deserve a little fun after this.”
“Actually, um… everyone’s hanging out at Jake’s after this. Do you mind if I go?” I ask.
She pauses. “I was really hoping that tonight, it could just be you and me. There was that new thriller out you wanted to see…,” she says, but this time, underneath the sad tone in her voice, I can feel her claws digging in. I’ve been trying so hard not to hurt her, but this isn’t fair. I’ve been here with her all day and most of the last four before that, helping get ready for this. I’m seeing Nora tonight. I don’t care what it takes.
“Can’t we do it tomorrow? I kinda already told Ryan I’d go,” I lie, glancing over at him, and he smiles and nods along without even the slightest hesitation.
She lets out a sigh, thinking.
“All right. But not too late and make sure you say hello to Monsignor before you leave tonight, okay?” Even though she’s agreed, her face is closed off now. Thankfully I’m saved from a further guilt trip by a loud clatter somewhere in the back and Mom grits her teeth. “I’ve got to get back in there before Mrs. Tyler overcooks another ten pounds of noodles,” she says before disappearing.
Phew.
“You’re going to Jake’s party with Savannah and Rory?” Ryan whispers, shocked.
“No. I haven’t even talked to them since Truck Night. I’m going to Nora’s,” I whisper back, “but it’s the perfect cover.”
Mrs. Dashnaw appears with the second tray and before Ryan can take off, I snatch the wine bottle out of his hands.
“You’re on spaghetti now,” I say, leaving him in the dust.
As Ryan sets a plate down in front of each person, I walk around and pour wine for each adult with a green wristband.
“Don’t be shy there, honey,” a lady older than spaghetti itself says to me. She uses her crooked finger to tip the bottom of the bottle up until a little wine spills over the brim of her cup. Ryan sends me a smirk from across the table.
What is with these people?
We work our way through the rest of our tables like a well-oiled machine, getting food to the last of our assigned section faster than any other duo. Finally, we make our way to a couple of chairs lined up against the wall in the corner and plop down to watch the rest of them finish up.
“Y’all Catholics candrink,” he says.
“Well, they start us very young. We get our First Communion gulp in second grade, and it’s all downhill from there,” I joke.
We watch the tables slowly empty out as people finish eating, almost every single plate licked clean, which is not something I could say for Mrs. O’Doyle’s spaghetti dinners. I’d say my mom has this on lock.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Ryan drops his voice so low that I can barely even hear it. I nod. “Your mom seems like… real cool. Like she doesn’t seem like the type of person who would have a problem with you and… you know. Have you thought about just telling her?”
I let out a big sigh, thinking about her hurt face earlier.
“I have. At first I thought she’d like… for sure just flat-outstop talking to me because of all this and the role she wants in the Church… but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I wonder if that’s true. The bigger problem is my dad, though. I couldn’t ask her to keep that from him, and he’srealconservative now, like even more than I remember from before. You saw what he was like about just leaving town.”
“I guess I hadn’t really thought about that. Sorry, Stevie. I probably shouldn’t have brought it up. It’s not really any of my business,” he says.
“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out. Luckily, I don’t have to do it right now,” I reply. So far this keeping it a secret thing is working out all right. Although… saying goodbye to Nora after our campfire seemed especially hard, and lying to my mom sucks more each time. So maybe…almostworking out all right.
“Well, I think our job here is done. I guess I should head out, but have a good time tonight. Say hi to Nora for me.”
We say our goodbyes and after he leaves, I find Monsignor for a quick hello before I head into the kitchen to congratulate my mom.
I have to weave through about twenty people packed into the tight space, but finally I find her sitting up on the counter in the back corner, munching on a piece of bread.
“Mom.” I slide up onto the counter beside her and hold my fist out. “You killed it.”
“Thanks, baby,” she says, sounding completely exhausted. “And thank you for all your help.” She leans over and gives me a kiss on the forehead, but it feels a little stiff.
