“How old were you?”
“Maybe second or third grade?”
“I’m trying to picture you at Scotty’s age. What did you look like?”
I giggled. “Tall. Skinny. One shoe always untied.”
“Adorable. So did the rock work?”
“It did. I totally believed him that it was lucky, and I remember feeling much more confident about tests when I had it in my hand. Got any lucky stones lying around?”
He laughed softly. “I’ll have to look. Anything is worth a try.”
“I agree. And really, don’t feel bad about last night. If you’re going to think about it, think about the good parts.”
“There were lots of those.”
“There were.” My whole body tingled, and I hugged my knees to my chest.
“Can I see you this weekend?”
“Of course.” I crossed my fingers and ankles. Invite me to your house. Let me meet your son.
“I need to check with my regular sitter, but would Friday work?”
“Sure. That’s actually my birthday.”
“Get the fuck out. It is?”
I laughed. “Yes. I definitely wouldn’t invent a birthday. Who wants to keep getting older?”
“We have to celebrate. I want to take you somewhere nice. Are you sure Friday night is open? Your family doesn’t want you on your birthday?”
“I’m celebrating with family on Sunday. Friday’s yours if you want it. I actually took the entire day off.”
“Did you really?”
“Yes.” I took a breath. “You know, if you can’t get your sitter, I could come to your house or something…” I left it dangling, hoping he’d grab on.
“Maybe. We’ll see. Wouldn’t be much of a date that way. And by that I mean there wouldn’t be any birthday sex. I’d be very, very sad about that. And it isn’t even my birthday.”
I had to laugh. “OK, well, let me know. I only wanted you to know I’m up for that.”
“I know you are, and I appreciate it.” He paused. “I love you.”
I hugged my knees. “I love you too.”
“Night.”
“Night.”
Setting my phone on my nightstand, I curled up again under the covers. I was a little disappointed he hadn’t offered to introduce me to Scotty yet, but I had to trust he’d know the right time. We were in love, yes, but it still felt young and fragile. Maybe more time was best.
I had a surprise visitor the next day at work.
“Knock, knock, darling.”
But she didn’t really knock. She just came right in.
“Mom. Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I was doing some shopping down this way and thought I’d stop by.” She tucked her silvery bob behind one ear. She’d gone completely gray in her thirties, so any day now I was expecting to wake up with a beard and head full of white, but so far it was only a few strays here and there.
“Come in.” I gestured to the chairs in front of my desk. Since leaving my uncle’s firm, I worked for myself and rented office space in a building downtown. Working from home sounds good in theory, but I did it for a while and found it hard to separate home from work—I found it much easier to get shit done in both environments when I wasn’t tempted to avoid work in one by taking up a chore in the other.
“I was wondering if you had time for lunch, actually.” She raised her eyebrows at me hopefully.
I frowned at the work on my desk and rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know, Mom. I have a lot of things to get done before a meeting at Scotty’s school at two.”
“Oh? About the IEP?”
“Yes. Among other things.”
“Well, let’s grab a quick bite and you can fill me in. I like to know how things are going with him, and we haven’t had a chance to talk much. You’re so busy these days.”
Fucking Mom Guilt. Nothing worse. “I know, Mom. Sorry, I just don’t have a lot of spare time.”
“I’m not blaming you, darling,” she said breezily. “I merely want to know how you’re doing.”
I fought off the groan building in the pit of my stomach and turned it into more of an exasperated sigh. “I wish you would have called first. I could have planned for lunch with you.”
“You’d have turned me down. I know you.” She arched a brow at me, then smiled cajolingly. “Come on. Humor your old ma. I won’t be around forever, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. She might have just turned sixty, but she was as healthy and active as someone half her age. “OK. A quick bite.”
She beamed. “Thank you. Shall we go now or do you need to finish something up?”
“We can go now.” I closed my laptop. “I’ll pick up my dry-cleaning too.”
“I could have done that for you today.” She was saying it to be nice, but somehow I felt it as another scolding—like I should have told her I had dry-cleaning to be picked up.
“I didn’t know you were coming down, Mom. Remember?”
“I know, but if you need help with things at home, I’m happy to do it,” she said, leading the way out of my office, through the little lobby area I shared with an accountant and an attorney. “The drive isn’t that far, and I’d love to see you and Scotty more often.”
I shut my office door and followed her out, taking deep breaths. She’s not saying this to criticize you. She’s simply offering to help. “I know, and I appreciate it. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”