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“No, you need to tell me what happened.” She’s insistent, and I know this will not end well.
“He cheated on me.” There, I said it.
“What? How do you know? Someone is spreading rumors, I’m sure. You know how all those other girls were so jealous of what you two have.”
Evan and I started dating our last year of high school. All through high school, he had a thing for me, but I wasn’t interested. I thought he was pompous. He was also a bit of a playboy. I don’t know why I didn’t see his flirty ways then. He eventually won me over, but quite a few of his exes were not happy with his choice in me. They made comments about how I wasn’t good enough for him, or I was a prude since I was a virgin. It never really bothered me, but it bothered my mom.
“I saw him with my own eyes. He was having sex with my roommate.” I sound bitter.
“I’m sure it wasn’t what you thought, maybe your mind was playing tricks. Too much studying will do that you know.” Wow, she is in denial.
“No, Mom, I know what I saw.” I can see her eyes start to tear up. “Look, we’re over, there’ll be someone else.”
“But he was such a good boy,” she says through tears.
“No, Mom, he wasn’t,” I scream. “If he was so good, why was he fucking Brandi?” I take my soda and storm off into my room, slamming the door.
I throw myself onto my bed and bury my face in the pillow. Anytime Evan and I got into a fight about anything, she always took his side. I never understood why. It was somehow my fault. I didn’t pay enough attention to him, I didn’t spend enough time with him, or we didn’t go anywhere. Well this was definitely not my fault. Or at least I keep telling myself that.
She knocks on the door and lets herself in. Comes over and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry,” she says, I’m sure to try and appease me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I mutter through the pillow.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” I turn my head from the inside of the pillow to look at her. She looks contrite, her lower lip trembling. I sit up. “Mom, he was wrong. I can’t be with someone I don’t trust.”
“I know, I’m just surprised,” she concedes.
“Not as surprised as I am.”
“I thought that you two were the real thing. Your father liked h
im too . . .” she trails off. Anytime she mentions Dad she starts sobbing.
“Mom . . . don’t.” I try to avoid the inevitable.
“They went to Yankee games together . . .” and the tears start falling.
“Please, Mom. I miss Dad too.” She looks at me, tears streaming down her face. Trying to control herself, she gets up and walks out of my room.
I sigh. Deep down she’s blaming me for Evan. That somehow, this too is my fault. She doesn’t even realize she’s doing it. She hasn’t been the same since my father died. They were the loves of each other’s lives. When he died, a part of her died with him. I think because Evan spent so much time with my dad, that by ending things with him, another piece of my father is gone for her. At least, that’s my working theory.
Evan was like a son to him. Evan didn’t spend much time with his own father; he was verbally and sometimes physically abusive. He spent more time here than I did. I just hope that my mom can get past her feelings for Evan and understand that I’m not doing this to hurt her.
She’s going to be despondent for at least an hour. I know she’ll see past it, but I can’t deal with her pettiness right now. I decide that I need to get out of the house. I grab my keys and head out the door.
I’m driving around without a destination and wind up at Anthony’s. I pull in and park. It’s early evening on a Monday so the restaurant is pretty quiet. I walk in and take a seat at the bar. Brenda is across the restaurant and sees me come in. She finishes what she’s doing and wanders over.
“Hey, lady.”
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Same shit, different day. What are you doing home?” she asks suspiciously.
“I was bored without you,” I tease.
“Yeah right. Really, why are you here?”
