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"I'm pretty good. How about you and Carl?"
"We're good,” he says. “Carl got off early, and he's grilling burgers. We wish you were here."
"I wish that, too."
"So I saw Jenna's mother. She said Jenna will be home this evening. Her finals are over now. We were just wondering when you might be home.”
"Oh yeah.” I feel bad I haven’t thought to call her. “I'll be home in...man, Mom. I don't really know." Jesus, I am so not prepared to do this right now. "It's nothing bad," I rush out. "I just...have some other plans." I inhale deeply and just spit it out. "I'm seeing someone. Like...a boyfriend."
I can tell my mom is shocked by her tone when she says, "You are?"
"Yeah. I am. Someone that you're really going to like. When you meet him." I'm surprised my eyes well as I say that. I swallow hard and say, "Which will be soon. I can't say for sure, but maybe Christmas."
It's the 14th of December right now—Ezra’s birthday. He has off from practice today—Friday—tomorrow, Sunday, and then just a meeting Monday. I was going to stay in his dorm Monday night. The team practices again Tuesday and Wednesday mornings, and then he's off Thursday December 20th through Wednesday the 26th. He has to be back in Tuscaloosa Thursday the 27th. They practice that day and then Friday the 28th, and they fly out to California for the Rose Bowl Saturday the 29th. I'm flying out, too, on the plane that departs right before his. He just doesn't know it yet. There're a few things that he doesn't know. I smile thinking of that.
"Josh? Are you still here?"
"Huh? Sorry. Yeah. I'm still here."
"You're bringing him home for Christmas? This new boy? Can you tell me about him? Something so I can prepare? Does he plan to use our...spare room?"
My poor mom. She's trying to avoid saying "Ezra’s room."
"Yeah, that would be great. If you want to make that bed for him, I would appreciate it."
"Josh! Well, this is just exciting!" Mom is drawling so hard right now. "Carl won't mind, either. Don't worry about that. He loves you just like a son, and he wants you to be happy."
"I'm not worried, Mom. It's okay."
"You sound happy, sweetheart. You sound happier and like you're doing better."
I grit my teeth, swallowing my pride and embarrassment. I think of Ezra locked inside a closet, then locked in a psych place, and how he toughed it out. I can get through this...shame, I guess is what it is.
"I am doing better, Mom. A whole lot better."
"I'm so happy, darling. Carl will be, too. How have finals been?"
I push myself to keep the call going for at least five more minutes. I tell Mom about my physics final, which I think I aced, and about the long, unscripted conversation that I had to have for Spanish. I ask her what she and Carl want for Christmas.
“You don’t need to get us much,” she says.
Maybe not, but if I’m getting them some stuff and Ezra might, too, we’re going to need a long list. He doesn't know he's coming with me yet, but it's the only logical option. I don't want Mom and Carl to be alone for Christmas, and he needs to come clean to his dad—for both of their sakes. Carl is one of the nicest guys ever, and I think Ez needs him. Needs his dad to know what happened. Needs Carl's support and approval.
I feel buoyant when I hang up with Mom. All the better for cleaning up my place and taking a long shower. I send Ez a snap of myself in the steamy mirror when I get out. He sends me one of him driving toward me.
Fuck, I have to be the luckiest person in the world to be this happy. I nearly killed myself with alcohol and weed and pills, but Jenna saved me. Mom and Carl forgave me, even when I wrecked my car and scared them both half to death. Ezra left me, and I thought he didn't give a shit, but he cared so much he remembered me despite his memory loss. And now it's almost Christmas. Now we're going home together to our—married!—parents for a cozy—if odd—family Christmas. I realize I better text my mom a Christmas list for “my boyfriend.” That way, Ez has some good gifts. I check my bank account and Venmo her $400. Then I text her parts of a list.
He had a Nintendo Switch at his mom's house, but he didn't grab it when he went to get his Jeep. He’s mentioned missing it. I ask Mom if she would mind picking one up. I can grab the games myself. I knitted the lion's share of a crimson scarf for him already, on the nights I've been here alone—just to be funny. I'm going to bet he doesn't have a nice fleece jacket. I've got two, but neither of them are particularly nice. Not good enough for a star quarterback. I remember that he had one last year... Mom had bought it, and he never even saw the thing. I text her asking if she could wrap it up for my boyfriend.
