Steph raises a brow. “What are you talking about? Work on what?”
“Your garden beds, obviously.”
“I don’t have time to plant and maintain a garden,” she says with a sigh. “It’s all I can do to keep the lawn mowed. The boys do it sometimes, but with Matty’s football and Alex’s extracurriculars …” she trails off.
“I know, baby.” I reach for her hand, but hesitate when she shoots a worried glance at her sons. Shit, maybe too soon for endearments in front of them. Alex’s jaw flexes, and he keeps his eyes averted, but Matt appears unbothered by the slip, so I continue, saying, “I’m going to help you. I’ll take care of the lawn from now on and anything else that needs doing around here.” It might be coming on strong, especially in front of the boys, but—
“Riley,” She starts to argue, and this time, I do take her hand where it’s resting on the table.
“We already talked about this. Let me help. Please, Steph.”
She searches my face for a long moment and must find what she’s looking for, for she concedes with a nod. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat with a grin and a pat of her hand. The kettle whistles, then, and I get up to make her tea, searching around for a subject change while I do.
“So your mom tells me you have a girlfriend,” I say to Matt when I settle back at the table, passing the mug over to Steph. She smiles in thanks, and I add it to my count:one hundred and fifty-eight.
“Yep,” he nods. “Priya.” He shrugs in an effort to appear nonchalant, though I know from Steph he’s crazy about the girl. “She’s cool.”
Alex snorts, and I glance over at him just in time to catch the tail end of an epic eye roll. “Cool?” he repeats with a smirk. “Sure, let’s go with that.”
“Whatever,” Matt mumbles, shoving a heaping spoonful of whipped cream and banana in his mouth.
“He worships the ground she walks on,” Alex says to me with a look that suggests we’re co-conspirators. And while I love that he’s including me in this playful ribbing of his brother, I also hate that this conversation is making Matt uncomfortable.
“That’s as it should be,” I reassure Matt while shooting his mother a meaningful look I hope conveys the depth of my worship for her. She blushes and glances away as Alex snorts again.
“Oooh, you wait,” Steph says to him with a knowing smile, reminding me that she suspects one of his computer lab partnershas been nursing a crush on him for a while. “One of these days, some girl’s going to come along and knock you off your feet, too.”
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, shooting a quick smirk in his brother’s direction before asking, “So does that mean I have your blessing to take thissomedaygirl up to make out point like he does?” He tips his head towards his brother, causing Matt to groan and drop his head into his hands.
Steph splutters, her eyes bouncing from one boy to the other and back again. “I— You—” She swallows thickly before recovering. “Your brother’s older than you, and …” she pauses. “IknowI don’t have to talk to him about being safe or respectful …” She slides her gaze back to Matt. “Do I? We’ve spoken about consent before, and the importance of using protection—”
He groans again, still keeping his face obscured. “Nooo, Mommmmm,” he whines, and I have to bite my lip to stop from smiling. I don’t relish his discomfort—or Steph’s, for that matter—and I certainly want the boy to be safe, especially given the circumstances of his own conception, but I’m irrationally pleased to be present for such an important family discussion.
Matt finally lifts his head, shooting an embarrassed glance in my direction before glaring at his brother. “Really?” he asks, his face red.
Alex shrugs with a smug expression. A quick glance at Steph tells me I need to do something to get this conversation back on the rails.
“You talking about the ridge? Kids have been going up there since our day. In fact, your mother and I—” I start, only to be interrupted by Steph’s gasp and more groaning, this time from both of the boys.
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the way to go …
“No, no,” I chuckle. “That’s not where I was going with that. I was just going to say we shared some special moments up there,”—I cut Alex off with a look, already coming to learn how this boy’s mind works—“Again,” I stress, “that’s not what I mean. Just that the ridge was a place we could go to escape for a little while. We went together, and we’ve had some pretty heavy talks up there,” I say, thinking of the ones we’ve had recently. “But I’ve also gone there alone, to work through things. Something about being way up there, able to look down upon the lakes and town, helps put things into perspective, I think. At least it does for me.”
“Me too,” Steph agrees quietly before admitting to her boys, “I still go there sometimes.”
“You do?” Matt asks, surprised.
She nods. “It’s been my safe place for years.”
I’m surprised she offered them this truth, but perhaps it’s an important first step for her in opening up to them about other things. A laying of the foundation for what we’ll reveal to them later on. I watch the boys watch their mother, the admission no doubt causing them to question why she might’ve needed such a place. And I continue to watch as understanding crosses theirfaces with the realization that she’s had a rough go of things. Both boys look dumbstruck, and maybe a little guilty, and I suspect they’re seeing their mother as a person for the first time, and not just as their caregiver. Someone who’s suffered heartache and sacrificed much—all for them. To ensure their needs were always met and they had the childhoods they did.
“Well,” Steph clears her throat and stands to begin clearing the table. I jump up to help her, quickly collecting the plates. The mood has shifted dramatically, and I feel bad for my part in that, though I think this mini-breakthrough was a needed one.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, moving up behind Steph at the sink. I’d been nervous about how things might go today—had imagined it many times—but I hadn’t truly been prepared for the roller coaster of emotions I’ve already experienced. And the night’s still young.
She shakes her head, her hands immersed in the soapy water as she scrubs at the dessert plates. “Don’t be,” she murmurs, so only I can hear. “It’s good. It’s all good.”
