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I realized that I was rambling and none of it was doing any damn good. She was not buying it; that was obvious.
“If that is the story you wish to go with, so be it,” Momma said. “But let me say this to you and then I’m going to leave it alone. Jason is a good man, a great man, and he’s worked with you and forgiven you for your past . . . transgressions. Don’t think for one second that he’s going to tolerate any more of your mess. If you’re up to no good, I hope he divorces you.”
“I cannot believe you’re saying these things to me.” I could tell the woman in front of us was listening to every word. “I cannot believe you would throw my past up in my face like this. If you recall, you and Daddy kept things from me that could have prevented it from day one.”
Momma looked like she was about to break out in tears. “That’s very painful to hear you say, Zoe. Your father and I—God rest his soul—did everything we could to protect you, up to and including relocating to Atlanta so you would not have to be around those boys who attacked you.”
I felt like shit. “I apologize. You’re right. None of this is your fault.”
“I would’ve given everything—my life, even—to turn back time and watch over you better.”
“I was walking home from school, like every other kid in the school. It should have been safe. You couldn’t have prevented it.”
This was not the conversation to be holding where we were. The class was finishing with their cool-down exercises, anyway.
I took Momma’s hand into mine. “Listen, everything is fine. Jason and I are better than ever. I realize that coming in so late looks bad, but I promise that I was not doing anything that I shouldn’t have been doing. And I was not cheating on Jason.”
Momma stared at me so hard that I let go of her hand.
“Seriously, everything is fine. I promise.”
The twins came running over to us, so that immediately ended the conversation. I wanted to come clean with my mother about the entire Orpheus/Eurydice thing, but it was not a conversation I was prepared to have. There are some things in life that others will not understand, no matter how you explain them. My mother was one of those “others.”
“Mommy, can we get some ice cream on the way home?” Kayla asked before she even had one of her shoes back on.
“You’re starting early,” I replied. “Exercising and then eating junk right after. That’s supposed to be saved for us adults.”
Kayla giggled. “You have a point. I’ll wait until tomorrow on the ice cream.”
Momma couldn’t help but laugh. The kids always lightened her mood. Her attention focused back on them as she made sure Kyle did not leave anything behind. He had a habit of forgetting something almost everywhere he went.
“Kyle, don’t forget your towel,” Momma said to him. “And tie those laces up all the way.”
“We do have to stop by the store to get Kyle a glove,” I informed them all.
“Ooh, shopping!” Kayla exclaimed.
“Ooh, a glove!” I came back with. “No throwing random things in the cart today.”
Our kids loved to run around in stores—no matter what kind—and pick up random items to purchase. And if the store had shopping carts, it was a wrap. I had to keep taking things right back out and putting them on random shelves out of place. I often imagined security officers monitoring the cameras, shaking their heads as I created extra work for those who were assigned to restocking items that were tossed wherever after people changed their minds about impulsive buys.
I was still going to buy the PlayStation controllers for the twins, but I planned to creep over to the electronics section to get them. There was no way that I was going to let them waste time by testing out new games and fighting over what to purchase next.
“Let’s go,” I said, standing up. “We have a fifteen-minute time limit in the store and I am sticking to it.”
Momma and the twins gave each other glances, indicating that I could say that if I wanted to but they were all going to do them.
• • •
“Dinner was amazing, baby!” Jason sat back from the dining room table a few inches and rubbed his six-pack abs. “I’ll have to wait on dessert, even though it smells delicious.”
“I made a Caribbean bread pudding, but I haven’t put the bananas Foster on top yet. I’ll do it when you’re ready to eat it.”
Peter was at a sleepover and Momma had taken the twins home with her. She was over our house so much that it often seemed as though she did not have her own home; not to mention that she was remarried. My stepfather, Rush, was a retired homebody who built train sets in their attic that ran on tracks overhead. The kids loved those train sets, so I was sure they were over there playing to their hearts’ content. Even with all of the electronic gadgets, there were still things that kids enjoyed from back in the day.
“Bread pudding? Aw, man,” Jason said. He stood up and headed into the family room to plop down on the sofa. “Give me an hour and I’m going to wolf it down like crazy.”
It had been a big meal. Something had overtaken me when I went grocery shopping alone. So much for the kids and Momma piling things into the cart. It is true that people should never go shopping when they are starving. I had prepared a wedge salad with bacon, onion, and homemade dressing with mayonnaise, heavy cream, lemon juice, garlic, and blue cheese crumbles. I followed that with a shrimp risotto with fresh corn, grilled salmon, and jerk steak, with sides of roasted asparagus, escalloped potatoes, and garlic toast. I was kind of stuffed myself.
