Authors: Amity Hope
He got out of the car and I followed. I caught him glancing at his phone.
“Are you late?”
“No, right on time. But I’ve got to run,” he said.
“Okay, well, maybe I’ll see you next week?”
“What? Oh, right. When we come back here. Yeah, I guess if you’re around I’ll see you then. Bye, EmLynn.”
I watched as he jogged away. It seemed like he was always running off. As I wandered toward the house I found myself wishing that just once, our time together wasn’t so rushed.
I decided to pass along Eric’s thanks to Phillip. Instead of going inside I followed the brick walkway to the backside of the house. They were probably all finished with lunch by now. Most likely the girls were outside playing, wearing off a bit of energy before Mom attempted to make them take naps. My suspicion was confirmed when I heard the girls’ laughter float to me from the backyard.
Their laughter wasn’t the only thing that floated my way. I stopped short of rounding the house when I heard Mom and Phillip’s irritated voices. It sounded as if they were talking about me.
Again.
“How many times in the last few months have you said that you wished she’d start going out more? That she’d start dating?” Phillip asked.
Judging by his exasperated tone, this argument had been going on for a while.
“I do want her to start dating. But that does not mean I want her dating the gardener! He’s the hired help for crying out loud!” Mom sounded even more exasperated than Phillip.
“Then you have nothing to worry about,” I said as I breezed around the corner. “Because we’re not dating, we’re barely even friends.”
“Thank heavens,” Mom muttered.
Then, just because I felt like saying it, I added, “We’re not dating
yet
.” I flashed her a smile and headed for the French doors that led into the house. I hadn’t made my way inside before I heard her mutter to Phillip.
“Now look what you’ve done!”
I laughed to myself, surprised when Phillip chose to laugh too. I glanced over my shoulder, taken aback that he’d been defending me to Mom yet again. He caught my eye and winked. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back. I closed the door, sealing off whatever remained of their little tiff.
Maybe there was hope for Phillip and me after all.
“Eric!”
He stopped just short of the work truck he’d arrived in. He shot a questioning glance at Tom, his boss.
“Go ahead,” Tom said. “I need to make a quick call to my wife, anyway.”
“Thanks,” Eric told him. He walked toward me as Tom got into the truck. “What’s up?”
“I was just wondering, I mean, I know you’ll be back here next week, but I thought maybe…would you want to, I mean, before then…” I stopped talking when I realized I was rambling and not really getting anywhere. What I was about to do was so far out of the perimeter of my comfort zone.
“Would I want to what?” Eric asked.
“Do you want to get together before then? Like maybe this weekend? I know you haven’t been in town all that long, and neither have I, but,” I pulled in a breath and mentally told myself to get it together, “maybe we could find something to do?”
“This weekend?”
“Unless you have plans,” I said. Or unless he just needed an easy way out of my invitation.
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t have plans. Are you sure you want to do that though? I don’t want you to waste your weekend on me.”
My heart palpitated and a smile lit up my face. “It wouldn’t be a waste of a weekend! I think it could be fun! Or,” I conceded, “it could be really boring. Since I’m not real sure what there is to do around here. But we could figure something out.”
He laughed at my continued rambling. “Yeah, we can figure something out.”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “Can I get your phone number?” I glanced at the truck where Tom was watching us in the side mirror. He had his phone up to his ear but I didn’t want to keep Eric too long.
“Yeah, here give me your number, too,” he said. We exchanged phones and quickly added each other as contacts. “I’m sorry. But I’ve got to run again.”
I smiled as I waved him away. “It’s fine. But I’ll get a hold of you so we can make a plan.”
Once again he jogged off. This time I didn’t mind so much as I watched Tom’s truck drive away. At least now I knew when I’d see him again. And it would be on our terms, not based on his work schedule.
I felt a little shudder of excitement ripple through me. Running after him had been a last second decision. If I’d thought about it too long I would’ve likely flaked out. But I hadn’t flaked out and now I not only had his phone number, but a date for the weekend.
Roseville suddenly wasn’t looking so bad.
I was still smiling as I spun on my heel and walked toward the house. My phone was still clenched in my fist when it chirped at me. I quickly retrieved the message.
Eric: Can’t wait for the weekend.
Me: Me either
.
J
I waited to see if he had anything else to say. He didn’t. Or maybe he just didn’t feel comfortable texting while his boss was sitting beside him.
I slowly made my way around the winding, shrub lined path that led to the pool house.
* * *
“EmLynn!” Mom cheerily called as she let herself into my living room.
I was sitting on my couch, music playing in the background. I had texted Clara about Eric. We’d been texting all afternoon.
I gave Mom a suspicious look.
“Go get dressed, sweetie.” She glanced at what I was wearing. “Get dressed in something nice.
Please
.”
I stayed anchored to my spot on the couch. “Why?”
“You and I are going to dinner. Just the two of us. I made reservations at The Firelight Grill. You’ve made it clear that you don’t want to spend a weekend with me. Surely you can spare a few hours for dinner.”
“I don’t know,” I hedged. “I went out to lunch with Eric. We had burgers. I’m not that hungry.”
“That’s perfect. The Firelight Grill has a lovely little Waldorf salad. Nice and light. Besides, if you can spare an hour for a stranger, you should be able to spare some time for your own mother.”
An hour later I found myself in a private little booth at Firelight, tucked back in a corner. It was Mom’s favorite place and I’d expected to hate it. I didn’t. It was elegant but not too overdone. No glass chandeliers or live piano music. Just soft lighting, muted colors, and a delicious aroma that hung in the air.
I regretted telling my mother I didn’t have much of an appetite. The plates of seafood linguini that a waitress had rushed past us smelled scrumptious.
So far, I’d picked out every last bit of disgusting celery from the salad my mother had ordered for me. I’d also listened to countless little tidbits of small talk.
“You’ve been awfully quiet. Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Mom asked.
“Not really,” I admitted.
She pulled her fork through her salad, stabbed at a piece of apple, and then set her fork down without taking a bite. She folded her hands delicately in her lap and leaned forward.
“I’m going to be candid with you. It hurts that you want to spend so little time with me. I understand we have a slightly rocky past. Can’t we move beyond that?”
I thought about that for a moment. “I’ll be candid as well. It hurts me when you are continuously trying to change me.”
“I’m not trying to change you. I just want you to…expand your horizons a bit. Is it so bad that I’d like to take you shopping?”
I made a face that I hoped implied,
Yes, actually.
She sighed.
“I’m not trying to change you. I’m just trying to
relate
to you. My friends who have daughters, they love to shop. They love to have their hair done. It’s a treat when they spend the day at a spa. They adore shopping for expensive purses and fancy shoes. What I’m trying to say is that I’m trying to relate to you the only way I know how. These were all things I was interested in at your age. I feel like I’m struggling to find common ground with you.”
I nodded to let her know I understood, or that I was at least trying to.
“Walking away from you, leaving you behind, it was the absolute hardest thing I’ve done in my entire life. To be honest, I was naïve. I thought a little girl belonged with her mother. I thought it would only be a matter of time before you missed me so much you’d be begging to come live with me. Honestly, my misplaced faith in that notion was the only thing that made it bearable to leave you behind. I wanted you to come to me, and I was so sure you would. But I wanted it to be on your terms.” She reached for her water glass. A sad, wistful expression appeared. “I was certainly wrong about that. You didn’t seem to miss me. You certainly never asked to live with me. You fought it every step of the way.” She laughed quietly. It was a wry laugh. “Even worse, you couldn’t even stand to visit with me.”
“Mom.” I paused debating what to tell her, how much to tell her. Maybe Clara had been right. Perhaps it was best to get it all out there. “I missed you so much. I cried myself to sleep for weeks. I never stopped missing you. But I didn’t feel comfortable around you anymore. I felt like you abandoned us.”
I was seventeen years old and I was just now having the first real conversation I’d ever had with my mother. It was another reminder of how she was practically a stranger to me.
I was also a stranger to her.
Realizing that, ironically, made me feel better.
Maybe I’d mistaken her trying to change me for simply trying to get to know me.
“I’m so sorry you felt that way. I wish I could change it somehow. It tore my heart in two to leave you with your father. On the other hand, I didn’t feel like it would be fair to him to rip you away when it was my decision to move across the country. I wish I could go back and change things. Yet, at the same time, I don’t know how I would’ve done things differently. If I’d forced you to come with me, I think you would’ve resented me. I wanted to avoid that. Unfortunately, I think you’ve come to resent me regardless. I was in a lose-lose situation.”
“You could’ve just stayed with Dad.” I wasn’t trying to be mean, or difficult. It was simply what I really felt.
“I could have,” she said carefully. “But I don’t think it would’ve lasted. We had already started drifting apart too much.”
“You could’ve gone to counseling,” I offered, channeling Clara.
“We could have. It may have worked. It may not have. I don’t want to play a game of What If. It’s pointless. That past is in the past. What’s done is done. I desperately want to move forward.”
She was right. It was pointless to dwell on the past. I stuffed a bite of chicken into my mouth to keep myself from dragging out the conversation like I so childishly wanted to.
“So, this boy. You like him?” she asked in a neutral tone.
I took a sip of my water. “I just met him but he seems really nice.”
She smiled and I couldn’t tell if it was genuine or not. “Do you know this boy from school?”
I shook my head. “He just moved here. I met him at the country club.”
“His parents are members?” She perked up at the thought.
“He worked there.”
She frowned. “He just moved here, started working at the country club and already has moved on to another job?”
“It wasn’t his fault he got fired—”
“He got
fired
?”
“Like I said, it wasn’t his fault.” I explained to her what Jace and Mike had done.
“I’m sure it was just an accident.”
“No, Mom, it wasn’t. I was there. I
saw
it.” I fidgeted with my linen napkin. “I should probably also mention to you that I told the country club I would be responsible for the damages.”
“Excuse me? What?” Mom nearly choked on a scoff.
I relayed the conversation I’d had with Eric’s supervisor.
She stared at me in frustrated disbelief.
“EmLynn. I can’t believe you would do such a thing.”
“Yeah? Well, Dad would’ve been proud of me for standing up for someone who was treated so unfairly. I’ll pay the bill when it comes. Even if it takes all of the money I’ve made this summer, I’ll pay it off.”
“That was not your bill to pay.”
“It wasn’t Eric’s either,” I firmly replied.
“Fine, I’ll take care of it,” she murmured. “Just never do something like that again. Not without consulting Phillip or me first.”
“You don’t understand. I see every day how these kids treat people. Not all of them. Clara’s pretty awesome. So are Janelle and Mona. But the elite group at school? They aren’t so nice.”
Clara’s family wasn’t über wealthy. However, her parents were both professors at a private college one town over. They were active in charity events and social clubs. Like me, Clara suffered from a bit of social awkwardness. We took comfort in being socially awkward together.
It didn’t help her social standing to be borderline brilliant, either.
Janelle and Mona were much more outgoing. They, however, were both gone for the summer.
“You’re stereotyping.”
“I’m not.” Maybe I was. Just a little. “Clara is super sweet and you don’t even like her.”
“That’s not true. I like Clara just fine.”
“Then what’s your problem with her?”
“I don’t have a problem with Clara. I simply want you to expand your friend base. Get to know people. I don’t want you to stop being friends with Clara, or those other two girls, either. But is it so wrong for me to want you to have more friends?”
I took a breath, bracing myself for what I was about to say.
“Okay. I’ll make a deal with you. You stop pushing these people on me. If you do that, I promise that once school starts I’ll make more of an effort to get to know people. But,” I held a finger up in the air, “if they turn out to be members of the Mean Girl Club, count me out.”
“Fair enough,” she decided. “I would really like you to try to get to know some of these girls. I know their mothers. Every now and again there are mother daughter events. Fundraisers that we put together, brunches—”
“Got the picture, Mom,” I grumped.
“Good,” she said as she picked her fork up again. “Now tell me more about this boy?”
“He’s nice. He lost his car keys one day. I gave him a ride home. He thanked me the next afternoon by buying me a frozen yogurt. We went to lunch today. We have plans for this weekend.” I shrugged. “Right now, that’s really all there is to tell.”
“Perhaps we can take his parents out to dinner.”
“Did you not hear the part where I said I just met him?” I didn’t want to get into the issue of his parents. Or his foster parents, actually. “Thank you for the offer. But I think it’s way too soon to be doing that.”
She waved a hand at me. “Nonsense. If they just moved to town they would probably appreciate the invite. Particularly if they don’t know many people yet. There’s nothing wrong with a warm greeting.”
I was frustrated because I wasn’t sure if this was an honest attempt to make peace with me, or if it was her way of nosing into my business. It was probably a bit of both.
“In fact, I can make reservations for Sunday night. Sunday nights are quiet. I would imagine they would have that night free.” She smiled at me, her decision clearly made.