“What are you even doing?”
“Working on a new campaign.”
I roll my eyes. Of course it’s Dungeons & Dragons related. It’s been like this since he was fourteen. Ever since he became a dungeon general or whatever. It’s all he does in his spare time. He’s either playing guitar or playing on his computer. It’s not all his fault, though. Mom wouldn’t let him compete in anything like football or soccer. He was destined for a life of geekdom. “You’re such a nerd.”
“You’re the one freaking out over not being able to eat popcorn with Jules.”
I’m not sure how that makesmethe nerd, but I don’t have time to retaliate because Mom walks in wearing a short red dress and matching heels. “Oh good, you’re awake.”
Mason snorts, and I ignore him, instead letting out a low whistle as she wrestles with a gold hoop earring. “Wow, you look nice.” Over the years, I’ve been so used to seeing her in either scrubs or something casual that it throws me to see her so fancy. Especially with her hair all twisted and pulled back to reveal her neck, showcasing a new gold necklace.
Mason swivels his chair to see for himself, and Mom looks between us with an unsure expression. “You think so?”
“Definitely,” he agrees.
Mom finally gets her earring in and releases a breath, her shoulders relaxing. “Richard is taking me to this fancy new restaurant for our anniversary. I wasn’t sure this was nice enough. He always looks so put together and I’m…” She motions toward herself as if to say she’s a mess, and I hate that she still somehow thinks she’s not good enough.
“You look great,” Mason says at the same time I say, “It’s your anniversary?”
A slow smile stretches across her lips. “Five years today.”
Mason and I exchange a knowing look that says we both realize how far gone Mom is over this guy. And Richard, he’s great. Like, almost too good to be true, great. And the best part? He’s everything my father wasn’t.
“I left some money on the counter for pizza, and there’s a salad in the fridge. I shouldn’t be out too late, but if anything comes up—”
“You’ll have your phone and to call right away,” Mason and I recite at the same time. Even at eighteen and twenty, it’s always the same speech.
Mom gives us a look but doesn’t elaborate. She doesn’t have to.
“We have our phones.” Mason gets up and pulls her in for a hug, his way of reassuring her that he’s fine. “Have a good time,” he tells her and kisses her cheek. “And happy anniversary.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” she says, cupping his cheeks. “Stay out of trouble.” Her eyes find mine over his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, dismissing the warning in her voice and ignoring her pointed look. I got into a little bit of mischiefone timewhen she was gone, and she’s never let me hear the end of it.
There’s a knock on the front door, and my mom gasps. “He’s here. I love you, be good while I’m gone.” She pats Mason’s cheeks and straightens her dress. “Are you sure I look okay?”
“Mom.” He laughs. “You look beautiful, now go. We’re fine.”
She nods and takes a deep breath before finally making her way out of his room. “Be back by midnight and use protection,” I call after her.
“Very funny, Alex,” she shouts from down the hall.
I flop back on Mason’s bed and lie perfectly still until I hear Richard’s expensive car pull out of the driveway. Mason watches from his window, then sits back at his desk to get back to his campaign. Some sort of weirdLord of the Ringsmusic softly starts to play.
“Think he’s going to propose?” I ask.
“I hope so. This is the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”
I hum, agreeing. I don’t really remember our dad, just a few flashes of his face and the way he used to yell at the TV when the Reds played, but Mason remembers. He’s told me stories about how much Mom used to cry and how often they fought. Mason was only four, but his memories of Mom locking herself in the bathroom so we wouldn’t see her so upset still haunt him. Once he told me he could still remember the way she used to weep while the shower was running, thinking no one could hear.
“You wanna watch the Reds game before I have to leave?” I ask.
“Can’t. I’m meeting with the crew in five minutes.”
“But I just got home,” I whine. “We always watch baseball together.”
He gives me a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Al, but we missed last week, so we agreed to do a double session tonight.”
