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“And nothing.” My mom doesn’t say anything for a beat, and I wonder if I won until she does.
“What’s this I hear about loud music and you not being kind?”
Fucking,fucking Hattie.
“Jesus, Mom, are you this heavily involved in Tanner’s shit?”
“Tanner lives in Springbrook Hills and has dinner with me regularly. I don’thaveto be in his shit. He’s getting engaged and settling down and living his life. You’re a mystery.”
“So go bug Tanner about shit.”
“I do. I’m bugging you right now.” Again, I sigh, taking another deep sip of my drink. My veins feel warm, this being the second one I poured, and I guess that’s why I start talking.
“Fuck. I don’t know, Mom. She’s . . . a pain. She’s all pink and sugar and up way too fucking early—”
“You never were a morning person.”
“And she never locks her damn doors. Drives me insane.”
“Makes sense. You know all about what happened with Jordan and Luna. The world isn’t always safe.” I feel appeased at her confirmation of my irritation and continue on.
“And she’s spoiled. Her dad’s the mayor, and he helped her build her business. She didn’t have to work for it.”
“Why does that bother you?” I don’t answer. “Your dad was given Coleman and Sons. You could have had it. Tanner was given it. Does that make the work he’s done less important? Or less valuable?”
“No, of course not” Her tone gets firm.
“So it’s because she’s a woman?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just—”
“It’s just you’re being an ass, Benjamin James.” I don’t respond. “Tell me what’s really going on.”
When we were kids, Tanner laughed at me for confiding in our mom. But when someone takes your passion and nurtures it, fighting for it to have room to grow, you trust them.
Hattie says it makes me a momma’s boy, but I’m not sure if I care. And so, for the first time, I confess what Lola Turner is doing to me.
“She’s gorgeous, Mom.”
“She has to be to catch your eye.”
“She didn’t catch my eye. I barged into her bakery the first day I met her because she was being loud as fuck at seven in the morning singing. She’s a terrible singer.”
“You broke into her bakery?”
“The door was unlocked!” I don’t tell her I thought she was robbing me or that I had a baseball bat and was in just my underwear. “Anyway. We got off on the wrong foot, and it never really . . . righted. Every time I see her, she drives me insane and I say something dickish.”
My mother sighs.
“You know, Ben, you got art from me. But the rest? That’s all your father. Was an ass when I met him. Still is, which you know. But he made me fall for him. Won me over.”
I refuse to look too closely at why that makes me feel a bit better.
“Sometimes people need a push, Ben, darling. Just look at Tanner and his Jordan. He was dragging his feet, trying to do it all. Jordan whipped him into shape.”
“I’m not trying to do it all, Mom,” I say, taking another deep sip of my drink, it burning on the way down.
“No, you just bury yourself in your art in order to avoid the world.”
