Jasmine
The drive to Long Island takes an hour and ten minutes on a Sunday morning with light traffic. I spend the entire drive rehearsing what I'm going to say. None of the rehearsals sound right. There is no right way to tell your mother that you've been secretly dating the man whose family broke your heart.
The boutique opens at eleven. I pull into the parking lot at ten-fifty-five. Mom's car is already here. Through the window, I see her moving between the racks, adjusting hangers, preparing for the day. She's in a burgundy wrap dress with gold earrings. She looks beautiful.
I get out and walk through the door.
The bell chimes. Mom looks up from behind the counter and smiles. “Baby! What are you doing here? You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“I needed to talk to you about something.”
Her smile fades. She puts down the blouse she was folding and takes off her reading glasses.
“Sit down,” she says.
There's a small settee near the fitting rooms where customers wait. I sit. Mom pulls up the stool from behind the counter and sits across from me, worry creased on her face.
“Mom, I need to tell you something and I need you to let me finish before you respond.”
“Okay.”
“I'm seeing someone. I've been seeing him for a while. It's serious.”
She nods slowly. Her face is still. “Okay, that’s nice. Who is it?”
I take a breath. “Logan.”
The silence that follows amplifies other sounds. The clock on the wall, the heating system, the blood rushing through my ears.
“How long?” Mom asks in a guarded voice.
“A couple of months.”
She takes off her reading glasses. “You've been seeing Logan Shaw for months, and you didn't tell me?”
“I wasn't ready to tell you. I knew how you'd react, and I needed time to figure out what we were before I brought you into it.”
“Before you brought me into it.” She repeats my words back to me, and each one is a stone. “I'm your mother, Jasmine. I'm not someone you bring into things when it's convenient. I'm the person who held you when that boy left you in pieces.”
“I know.”
“And now you're telling me you went back to him. After what that family did to you. After what that woman said to you.” She stands up from the stool, walks to the counter, and looks at the wall. “Those Shaws think they’re too good for you, and you went back.”
“It's different this time.”
“How? How is it different, Jasmine? He's the same man, and his parents are the same people. That woman is still his mother.”
“Logan is not his parents, and he’s not the boy who left me. He's a grown man who has spent the last ten years regretting what he did.”
“He told you that?”
“He did and I believe him.”
Mom turns around. “Do you know what it was like for me watching you fall apart? I raised you alone, Jasmine. I didn't have a husband or a boyfriend or a mother of my own to help me. It was just me. And when that boy left, and his mother made you feel like garbage, I was the one who picked up the pieces.”
“I know. And you were right. Everything you told me was right. But being right about what happened ten years ago doesn't mean you're right about what's happening now.”
“You sound like a lawyer.”
