She sets down her coffee and pushes it across the counter until it's out of her way, then reaches into the cupboard and pulls out the bowl she uses to mix pancakes. It's the same bowl she's been using since I can remember. It's olive green, with a flower decoration. It's hideous, but right now the sight of it is filling me with warmth.
"Is coffee with him today a date?"
"No." I shake my head and go to the pantry to retrieve the pancake mix. She looks me in the eye when I hand the box to her, but I look away so I don't have to see the hope nestled there.
"I know you don't want to tell me what happened between you two, and Lord knows I've hinted enough to both of you that I wouldn't mind having some idea what went on. But even your silence says something, and it's telling me you two hurt each other pretty badly. Am I right?"
This time, there is no avoiding her gaze without being rude. I sigh. "Yes, Mom. You're right."
"Has either of you apologized?"
"I think that's what coffee today is about. Finally saying the things we've been holding in for years." I want to throw up just thinking about it.
"Hmmm." Mom dumps in the mix without measuring. She adds an egg and milk without measuring the milk. I guess after years of making pancakes, eyeballing becomes its own precise measurement.
"What?" I ask her, because I know I'm supposed to after she makes a sound like that.
She removes a whisk and pushes it into the mixture in the bowl. A little puff of white flies into the air. "Maybe that's not all your coffee date is about."
"Not a date," I remind her.
"Oh, please." She pauses her whisking to look at me. "I see the way you two look at each other. He caught you before you hit the deck when you saw that needle last week and it took the breath away from both of you when you touched each other. Not to mention how he chased after you."
I frown and shake my head as I bend down to pull the griddle from the back of a cabinet. "It didn't mean anything," I tell her. If only she knew what happened two nights ago while his dad was just fifteen feet away, passed out in the front seat of her car. We were like two horny teenagers again.Embarrassing. I lay the griddle across two burners on the stove and turn them on.
Stepping back, I ask, "Mom, do you know if Owen's dad is okay?" I lean one arm on the counter and watch her pour pancake batter onto the griddle. A soft sizzling fills the air, along with the smell of batter.
She glances at me as she pours, distracted by my question.
"Mom…" I nod at the griddle. The pancake she has just made is twice the size of the others.
"Oops," she mouths. She tips the bowls over again, giving the oversized pancake two ears. "Minnie Mouse pancake, like I used to make for you."
"Thank you," I tell her, smiling. As sweet as her gesture is, it hasn't escaped my attention that she is avoiding my question.
"Owen's dad?" I press.
She reaches for a spatula and holds it poised in midair over the pancakes. "I think that's a story for Owen to tell you."
Shit. My stomach sinks and now I’m wondering if that wasn’t just one night of bad drinking … if it’s every night.
"Is it bad?"
She shrugs. "Depends on your definition ofbad, I suppose."
"Well, in your definition of the word, is it bad?"
She purses her lips and looks at me. "Yes."
My teeth capture the inside of my cheek. I was afraid of that answer. Owen didn't seem shocked to find his dad passed out.
"That's sad," I murmur, taking a drink from my coffee because I don't know what else to do or say. My heart hurts for Owen. The only parent Owen has ever known is hurting himself, and in turn, hurting Owen. And Owen takes care of him, because that's what Owen does. He's a caretaker, right down to his core. But who takes care of Owen?
I blink hard, twice. That is a dangerous thought, one I have no business entertaining.
I watch her flip pancakes, then get out plates and forks, butter and maple syrup.
We eat, and talk about the garden she wants to plant. No mention of Owen or his dad, her cancer or my lack of a job. There is no shortage of depressing topics of conversation, but we manage to avoid them all.
