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My mother is a mind reader. She and Alani should get together on a Vegas show. I bumble and stutter. If I deny it, she’ll know I’m lying. I’m just working out my line of defense when she reaches her conclusion.
“God damn, Rye, that means he’s older. How old?”
Double crap. Now what?
If I admit I’m seeing an older man, an officer of his no less, she’ll call my snooping Dad. He’ll figure out in a heartbeat who it is. Ethan will be in trouble at work. I’ll get a lecture from hell.
I don't need this parental drama in my life. Time to cut loose.
“Mom, it’s my private business.”
“So you are seeing an older man,” she says with confidence. “I knew it.”
“Jesus, Mom,” I say. “Can’t I have my own life?”
“I’m buying you a ticket tonight when I get home,” she says. “I might even drop you in first class if I have the points. I’ll take you out with the girls and all this silliness will be forgotten.”
“Mom, you may hang with girls but I am notone.”
“Of course, you are,” she says. “Believe me being an old bag comes around fast enough. I’ll send your schedule later tonight. It’s beautiful in Boston this time of year. And this is the best thing for you. You can study for the bar here while meeting some decent men from MIT.”
“Mom—”
“It’s all settled, Rye,” she says. “I’ll be in touch.”
She cuts the call, and I drive in a deep sulk.
Now, what?
