“Yeah, I’ll take you tomorrow. The weatherman says it will get colder for the next week or so, then it chills out and we’ll be in the seventies. They’re forecasting a chance of snow for the holidays,” I said and started the slow descent out of the airport parking garage.
“They know that already?” she asked, amazed. “We still have weeks to go.”
“Yeah, I guess.” The way I drove was different these days, driving my personal vehicle with the same assertiveness I did my FedEx truck. I could edge my truck into traffic when there was little room to do so. The frustrated honks ensued when I did that now. Chaos was the only way to describe the exit out of O’Hare airport. “You’re gonna have to babysit Dash. He’s in freak-out mode, trying to get everything finished to graduate in a few weeks. Then he goes straight into preparing for the bar. He’s working for a law firm on weekends, and some nights… You know that I’m slammed at work.” I gave her a little sideways glance to make sure she was paying attention to me. “So take care of him.”
“I know, and I will. He and I text all the time. I can read the stress even without his voice,” she said, humor in her tone. “It’s why I’m here so early. I gotta help my boys. Don’t stress about it. He’s just as worried about your workload. It’s sweet how you look out for each other.”
Her words relieved some of my worries. Dash and I had been going in different directions for the last few weeks. No amount of preparation had us ready for the holiday rush, and we still had weeks before the final push, the busy days leading up to theactual holiday. Between the overwhelming number of packages to be delivered and the weather conditions outside, Dash and I only saw each other in bed. And that wasn’t for long. My day started at three in the morning, while his lasted until ten, or eleven, or even later some nights.
Maybe this was just adulting, except we weren’t paying rent or utilities. My cash went for the groceries and eating out. The rest was saved. The law firm paid Dash twenty-five dollars an hour. His money went toward professional grooming. Jumping headfirst into his expensive haircuts and highlights, buying high-dollar hair products and facial soaps and lotions that supposedly made his skin soft and youthful. He made me use the products too. I couldn’t tell the difference, but he swore they helped.
“I have the Christmas dinner menu planned. Wanna hear it?” she asked, rifling through the purse she had hanging over her body. “Actually, it’s a lead-up menu, starting a couple days before the big day. The meal takes time, so I created a three-day celebration. Dash told me he’d be off through the holidays, then start with the firm full time in January. I figured you’d have to work through Christmas Eve.”
I nodded, fearful that I might have to work Christmas Day. My mother continued telling me about her menu without so much as a grunted response from me. “I plan to have an appetizer party, celebrating Dash’s graduation. Dash asked to have friends over. People who’re displaced for the holidays.” Well, that was new information for me. The distraction had me barreling up on a small car. I had to focus on the road. It wasn’t easy. Nothing had changed for me. I didn’t like his friends, more so now. They were like Dash’s family. Pretentious and believing they were on a higher plane than everyone else, but Dash really enjoyed them, so I suffered through.
“Of course, I’ll have the cheese dip you like and your favorite chips. Then I thought we’d change it up. Have individual caprese appetizers.” She looked over at me, or at least I felt her eyes on me. “They’re easy, and Dash likes them. They’re a grape tomato and a small cube of mozzarella. Then basil and olive oil. I’ll add olives and sliced meat to the tray.”
In the silence, I realized she was waiting for me to respond. I nodded, and she turned back to her list. “I planned for warm brie and pear tartlets. Bacon wrapped figs. Cranberry, pecan, goat cheese individual balls. I’ll probably go half cream cheese and half goat cheese. And the best tasting Gruyère and thyme stacked potatoes—small bite-size potatoes. All of that can be made ahead of time. I also found several cocktail recipes I want to try. I thought you could take leftovers the next day for lunch. They may be easier to eat throughout the day. Sound good?”
I nodded again but had my apprehensions. It sounded fancy, which wasn’t her normal style. “Christmas Eve, we’ll have the ham that you like so much, cheesy potatoes au gratin, and fresh green beans. Your favorite meal.”
I nodded this time in appreciation. A honey-baked ham and green beans were the best food out there.
“Then prime rib, leftover ham, a new dressing recipe that I found, seared broccoli rabe with toasted almonds and homemade croutons—my favorite—and glazed carrots, roasted sweet potatoes, and I found a shaved brussels sprout salad. It looks amazing.”
Huh. That was a far different meal than she’d ever made before. I scrunched my nose at brussels sprout anything, but the rest sounded pretty good. “What about bread?”
“Yep, got it down. I think yeast rolls are a good choice.”
Yum. My favorite. “Amelia’s coming to stay for a few days, she’s making tamales in bulk for some guys at work. They’re paying her. I’ll help you however I can. I’ll chop anything and dothe prep work when I get home at night,” I offered, breathing a sigh of relief when I finally merged onto the right freeway to take us home.
“That’ll help a lot. I feel like this is a big undertaking, but I like to cook, and we’ve been so poor…” Her words trailed off as the freeway opened at least enough to pick up speed. “No, I’m not going backward, only forward. I have a decent budget for decorating.”
“Mom,” I started. We talked about this. No over-the-top decorations. Maybe a tree but nothing more.
“But I want to, Beau. The lights are colorful and bring joy. We can run lighted garland up the banister and over the windows and doorways. Of course we’ll do the tree.”
“Where am I gonna put all that stuff when the season’s over?” I asked.
“Half the condo isn’t being used, or we can get a small rental unit. We’ll figure it out,” she said. “Let me do this. You two are carrying a load and I’m proud of you.” Oh man, mom guilt was the worst kind of guilt.
I finally nodded because I knew her better than anyone. She’d argue all the way to actually putting the decorations up.
Weirdly, I was developing a new set of insecurities that I needed to figure out. Dash was diving headfirst into his career path, which I was so proud of him for. He deserved only good experiences from life. But something about the long relentless hours he put in, followed by lots of gatherings with his peers, was running my guy ragged. Maybe I was jealous. Dash had loved me so good that it was hard to lose his undivided attention. Yeah sure, he always included me in his outings, but Dash rarely slept. I needed rest. And our sex was lackluster at best.
“What’s got you so quiet?” she asked, pulling me from my downward spiraling thoughts.
“Nothing, really,” I said, keeping my eye on the road. We’d traveled farther than I’d realized so I moved into the exit lanes. “Dash’s burning it at both ends. I get that it’ll work out better once he graduates. It’s good that you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t miss this time with both of you. He’s done such great things,” she said, and turned back to stare out the front window. “And he’s so smart. Did you always know how smart he was?”
A grin took my worries away. She was funny. “Remember, he graduated early from high school and had his associates degree. College lasted about a year. He’s taken his time with law school to get some age under his belt.”
“That’s right. Have you thought about going back to school?”
Oh lord, here we went again. A conversation she wanted to have all the time. I rolled my eyes and followed the road as she started in on the value of a college education. She wasn’t wrong. I just had too much energy to sit and study for so long. I was happy with my job. It was good enough for me.
Dash
