2
Ezra
“DID YOU TAKE YOUR MEDS, HUN?”
“Yes, Mom.” I have no doubt my eye roll can be heard across the country. “Stop being so codependent.”
“You’re my favorite child,” she says from where she’s stationed in front of the stove. “It’s my duty to worry.”
“I’m youronlychild. And a grown man. I can remember to take my happy pills.”
“I don’t know why you insist on calling them that. You know you don’t have to be happy all the time, right? It’s okay to feel down, just not…” She trails off, no doubt remembering just how low I was not long ago.
Exhaling, I round the island so I’m at her side. Grasping her by the backs of her arms, I force her to lock eyes with me. “The medicine is working, and I’m seeing that therapist you recommended. I’m doing really well. I promise.”
With a pat to my cheek, she turns back to the stove. “Good. Now help me with breakfast, then get out of here.”
“Why are you kicking me out so fast? Got a hot date or something?” Itease.
My mom sighs dramatically, puffing air into her hair. The bright white color is so different from the dark hair I inherited from my father. She went gray in her thirties but has never dyed it. She has no interest in abiding by patriarchal pressures.
“Yes,” she chirps. “Your new daddy will be here any minute. And he’s about your age, so it’ll be super awkward if you’re still here.”
Stomach lurching, I go ramrod straight. “What the?—”
She bursts into laughter, bracing her hands on her knees and wheezing.
“You little sh?—”
“Shh. Don’t curse in front of your mother.” She waves an oven mitt at me. “You should have seen your face.”
Shoulders relaxing, I lean a hip against the counter. “Not funny.” Even as I tell her this, I can’t help the smirk that escapes.
“It’s nine a.m.,” she says, handing me a plate. “Of course I don’t have a hot date.”
“But you’re not denyingdating.” I scan her face for answers. “Are you dating someone?”
Her silence speaks loud and clear.
“Mom.”
“What, Ezra? Do you seriously want to hear about your mother’s sex life?”
Slamming my eyes shut, I cup my hands over my ears. “I didn’t say anything about sex. I’m talking about dating.”
“Oh, what’s the difference these days?”
Cringing, I grab my overnight bag from where I dropped it by the front door and sling it over my shoulder. “That’s it, I’m out of here.” I try to stay overnight once a month. It’s always been just the two of us, and it’s sort of a tradition.
As I grasp the doorknob, she calls out. “Sit.”
With a huff, I let the bag fall down my arm. Then I shuffle back to the kitchen island.
“You will stay and have breakfast with your mother.” She smiles.
“Only if you promise to cool it with the sex talk.”
My mom may be progressive, but a guy’s still got his limits.
