“I think you look beautiful, but if you need a moment, knock yourself out.” I look at him. He's doing that thing again, withdrawing, pushing me away. I tell myself I have to chalk this up to something between him and his mom. I set the food down on the table. “I'll be rightback.”
I think about washing up and putting on some lip gloss, but end up getting in the shower and putting on my other sundress and doing my ten minute makeup routine. Perfectly suitable formoms.
Silas is right where I left him on the couch looking at his phone. “Ready?” he asks. He won't look at meagain.
“I am, but can you please look at me.” He does. “I kind of hate when you do that. It makes me feel rejected, like you honestly can't stand to look atme.”
He blinks and keeps staring at me like he's working something out, then he licks his lips. “Sorry. I don't want to call mymom.”
“Then let's not call her right now,” I say as I flop down on the couch besidehim.
“We have to. She’ll flip out if she doesn't hear from me by tonight and then she'll start harassing friends and neighbors until she gets a hold ofus.”
“Okay. Then let's rip the band-aid off and get it overwith.”
“Fine.”
I sit by, trying not to chew a hole in the inside of my lip as he gets his mom on FaceTime. She answers pretty quickly. She can't see me the way Silas is holding the phone, but I see her clearly. Mrs. McInroy is a gorgeous Polynesian woman. She can't be any older than fifty. Immediately I can see where Scott and Silas got their lips and the shape of theirfaces.
“Hi honey. Hold on, your dad’scoming.”
“Here.” He turns the phone so we’re both in frame. “Mom, this is Ebie. My girlfriend the whole town was so happy to tell youabout.”
“Oh hi!” his mom says to me and then she glares at Silas. “You should have been happy to tell me about her too.” His dad pops into frame and the genetic picture is complete. The man is huge and bearded, with salt and pepper brown hair. He’s very seriouslooking.
“Greetings, young people,” he says. And veryScottish.
“We have full premium cable? Do you know anything about that?” Silasasks.
“Yeah, I set up the auto-pay feature so I can watch my BBC when I come home and your mum still uses the apps on theaccount.”
“Okay, well put it on my card. I stopped paying after football season because I figured it was a waste of money, but if you’re using it I’ll pay forit.
I almost ask Silas how he didn’t notice that we’d both been using his wifi since I got there, but I keep my mouth shut. He’s so busy he’s probably too tired to notice when he gets home atnight.
We exchange pleasantries for a few minutes. Then the questions start. They ask where I'm from. I don't lie about living in the city. They’re fine with a general reference to the Upper West Side. They don’t ask me for cross-streets or anything. They ask what I do for a living. I don't lie about being in corporate litigation. They ask me where I work because of course they are both lawyers and their other son, who no one has mentioned, also lives in the city and does corporate litigation. That, I lieabout.
“I'm actually in between firms right now. Figured this was a good time to come visit Silas. I absolutely love thefarm.”
“Very happy to hear it,” Mrs. McInroy says, but now she has this weird twinge to her voice. She sounds like Silas when he's shutting down. Fuck. “Well you kids will have to excuse us,” she says suddenly. “We’re meeting your Uncle Michael for dinner to finalize somethings.”
“Okay. Well, we’ll talk to you later,” Silassays.
“Ebie, how long are you with us?” his dadasks.
“Till the end of the week,” I say. And I know then that it has to be the truth. I can't hide here forever. We say our goodbyes and Silas ends thecall.
“That was okay right?” I ask him as he leans back and lets out a deep breath. He sets his phone down on histhigh.
“No. It wasn’t.” His phone starts ringing again. I see MOM INTERNATIONAL on the screen. “Shit. I’ll be right back.” He hops off the couch. “Yea, Ma,” he says as he walks out of the TV room. Then I hear the front doorslam.
* * *
He’s gonefor so long I start picking at my food. I make more coffee and start an episode ofMartha Stewart’s Cooking Schooland then another. When an episode ofAntiques Roadshowis about to start, I figure I should at least go check on him. I risk walking out on the porch barefoot. Honeycrisp, Morty and Gala bum rush me when they see I'm going for the front door. I let them out and follow. I look around and find him sitting on the porch swing. Joe Namath is asleep at his feet. Silas is off thephone.
As I get closer, he runs his fingers through his thick hair. I can see that his eyes are a little red. I know he knows I'm there, but he doesn't tell me to beat it so I walk to the swing and sit down beside him. He sits back and lets me take his hand. His phone is nowhere insight.
I don't say anything. We don't need to talk, not yet. I just want him to know I'mhere.
