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I pause when the server returns with my very large latte. He sets it in front of me before turning to Mom, asking, “Can I get you anything?”
Mom shakes her head. “I won’t be staying long.”
I feel my heart deflate. Is this whole thing really going to come between us? Why does she even get a say in my sex life or who I date? I thought the whole point of being a college student and leaving home is to make mistakes; discover oneself. Isn’t dating a part of that?
I’m sure she’s not one to judge either. Although, I know nothing about Mom’s dating past. All I know is one day she met Dad while standing in line at a coffee shop and he allowed her to go ahead of him. Ten months later, they were married, and then a couple of months after that, I was born.
I take a sip from my coffee, hoping it settles my insides and calms my heart, which has somehow leapt into my throat, making speaking very difficult.
“Anyway,” I say while setting the mug down. My insides twist. I guess the coffee didn’t work at all. Great. “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
Mom sighs while shaking her head. “You don’t need to explain yourself. I was in the wrong for entering your apartment like I did. A simple call would have been enough.”
“Well, at least now I can be honest with you.”
Mom lifts her gaze, narrowing them at me and reminding me of one of those angry wild cats shown on the animal channel. She sits back in her chair, crossing her arms, and I get a sickening feeling that I said the wrong thing.
“I don’t understand why you needed to keep this a secret from me in the first place.”
I grimace. Oh, great. Are we going to fight? “Well, I didn’t think you would understand.”
Mom’s gaze darkens. “You’re right. I don’t understand.”
Yep, we’re going to get into a fight. I haven’t fought with Mom since freshmen year of high school when we had a differing opinion on what was appropriate to wear to school. I wanted to wear a miniskirt, whereas Mom believed strong, independent women didn’t wear such slutty attire to school. It was quite the showdown. Mom obviously won.
There’s no way I’m letting her win this argument. It’s my life. She has no business sticking her nose in my dating life.
“What’s going on, Rachel?” Mom asks, her voice taking on an angry tone.
“They’re my boyfriends,” I say, my voice trembling.
“All three?”
My head bobs up and down. My tongue remains tied. I have no clue what to say to get her to understand; to get her on my side.
Mom scoffs. “You must be joking. Rachel.” She shakes her head. “I just- I can’t-”
“Mom, I love them,” I spit out. “They’re my boyfriends and we care for each other.”
Mom laughs bitterly and snatches her bag from her lap. She rises and I follow her motion. “Mom-”
“There’s no way I can believe that you love all three of them. That’s just- just-”
“Well, it’s the truth,” I say, moving to block her escape. Her hand is on the suitcase. Is she really going to leave me like this? “I love Lucas, Hunter, and Seth.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “Whatever,” she says while moving to the side. “Do what you want. You’re an adult now. I can’t make your decisions for you. Only offer my advice.” She shoves a finger at me. “But let me tell you, Rachel, you are making a big mistake. One of these days, you’re going to hurt those boys. Or they’re going to hurt you.”
I groan. “See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“Because you know it’s a mistake,” Mom says, her voice almost a shout. She inhales deeply while I scrounge around in my head, trying to find the words to tell her she knows nothing.
My mouth remains closed.
“I did not raise my daughter to be…” She gestures towards me, and I feel all the disappointment seep into me. My eyes prickle with tears. I blink them away. There’s no way I’m going to allow myself to break down here. If I break, then she wins. I have to remain strong until I get home, and then I will break down in a crying fit.
“I have to go,” Mom says while turning on her heel and stalking out of the cafe. I wait for her to turn around, to tell me she still loves me, but she disappears around the corner.
I dump my body into the chair and take a very long drink from my coffee. The liquid scalds the roof of my mouth, but I don’t care. Well, that went terribly. I kinda feel worse now than I did before. Maybe space is what we need to get over this hump. And then what? I never talk about it again? What if I’m with the bros for years to come?
