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“I’m not giddy,” Mom says, but she’s lying.
Look upgiddyin the dictionary, and there she’d be, my mom.
“How long has this been going on?” I say. “The way you talk about men, I thought you’d sworn them off for life.”
“Are you angry? I know it would be a big change, a man in my life, but you know I’ll always put you first.”
“I’m not mad,” I tell her. “Just curious.”
“I’m not sure you can say it’s beengoing on. It’s not like we’ve been seeing each other, but there’s this man at work—”
“Who?”
She touches her nose again. “That would be telling.”
I almost scream, but I have to remember what I would’ve said before I met Jacob, before the kissing, before he defended me, before we became journalists-in-arms hunting down the heart of this mystery.
“But you care about him?”
“Definitely. I wasn’t sure how he felt about me at first. I’m still not, not completely, but today, when everything got tense and stressful, he took me aside and hugged me. It’s been a while since I dated, but I’m sure there was more than friendliness in the hug.” She throws her hands up, laughing.
If it wasn’t for the pit in my gut, cannibalizing all my good feelings, I’d be thrilled to see her so enthusiastic.
“Listen to me. I sound like a teenager.”
“Are you going to ask him out?”
“Askhimout? Oh, no. I’m going to play the suave, sophisticated, distant, would-be lover. Reel him in.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with my mom?” I say, hoping I sound joking.
I’m not sure I do, but she’s too caught up in the rush of her excitement to realize.
“It’s nothing serious,” she says. “Not yet, but with this one… I’m thinking I could let it all go. The stuff about your dad. Lately, I’ve been thinking about him.”
“AboutDad? Why?”
“Not about him, per se. I’ve been thinking about all the things I’ve said to you about men. All the lessons I’ve given you. All the warnings.”
It might turn out these warnings were useful, but do I believe Jacob would pursue me and mymom? The notion goes against everything I know about him, against every experience we’ve shared. It goes against his husky words in the bar, defending me, branding me his girlfriend.
“I hope I haven’t put you off completely. I know you want kids one day. I shouldn’t have labored you with all my baggage.”
Despite the strange—and horrible, no,evil—love triangle we might accidentally be involved in, I go to the couch. Sitting, I take her hand.
“You never have to apologize for leaning on me,” I tell her. “I’ve always been happy to support you.”
“After today… I know, it was just a hug, but for the first time in years, I’ve got hope, and I want you to have it, too.”
“Do you want anything to eat?” I ask.
“You don’t have to…”
I stand. I’m too wired to relax, anyway.
“I don’t mind. Really.”
“Sure, that would be nice.”
