I knew I’d messed up, but something told me that this wasn’t just about denying our relationship to our boss. Her reaction seemed out of proportion to me downplaying what happened in the closet. Something else was bothering Julia. Maybe I hadn’t been a good enough girlfriend? Or maybe she wasn’t as serious about me as I was about her?
We were meant to be together. As much as I’d always thought she wasn’t my type I knew with complete certainty that she was perfect for me. But I had no idea how to fix this, and I was so depressed about the break-up I couldn’t even rouse myself to figure out what to do.
Then help came knocking on my door bright and early Saturday morning. I’d hoped it was Julia, but it was someone a little older.
“Oh. Mom. Hi.”
I opened the front door the rest of the way and headed into the kitchen, knowing that Mom would follow me.
“Do you want some coffee? I just made a fresh pot.”
“Yes.”
My mother sat quietly while I poured us coffee, but I could feel her almost vibrating with the need to talk. She lasted until I sat down across from her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
When I opened my mouth she held up a hand. “Don’t you dare say,‘tell you what’Christina. Jeannie texted me last night to say that she’d heard that you and Julia broke up. Over a week ago!”
Her voice raised to a painful pitch on the last sentence.
“Sorry Mom,” I said contritely. “But I’m still processing it myself.”
If Julia had been willing to at least talk to me, we could have planned what we were going to say to our parents. Then again, our relationship had stopped being fake a long time ago, so there really was no need to coordinate our stories.
“Tell me what happened,” she demanded.
“What did Mrs. Montego say happened?” I asked carefully.
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “She said that Julia refused to tell her anything besides the fact that it hadn’t worked out, that you two wanted different things.”
“Well, there you go.”
I stared into my coffee cup while my mother stared at me, and when I couldn’t take it anymore, I met her gaze.
“What. Happened?”
I hadn’t even told Marlee and April what happened yet, but somehow I found myself spilling my guts to my mother. Other than a disapproving frown when I told her about making out in the closet at work, Mom was quiet until I’d finished the entire story.
“So that’s it then?” she asked. “You’re not even going to try to get her back?”
“She’s not trying to get me back either,” I pointed out. “Clearly she’s done. I need to accept her decision.”
“I never took you for a quitter,” Mom grumbled.
That was my mother for you. Instead of offering any comfort or at least asking how I was doing, she went right into her tough love interrogation mode.
“Do you want her back or not?”
“I do.”
“Do you love her?” she pressed.
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“Does she know?”
I shrugged. “Maybe? I’m not sure.”
