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I hop up from the couch and navigate to her tiny dorm kitchen. “Let’s see what you have.”
Zoe follows close behind me. “I don’t have much, Mom. We could go out. Or order to go. There’s a vegan place—”
Zoe cuts herself off when I open the fridge. It’s like a flashback: I’m back in Baden-Baden staring at Chris’s bachelor fridge.
This is a little better, but not much. There are to-go containers and a sad bunch of kale and an almond milk container, but there’s also . . .
Bacon. There’s a pack of bacon in one of the drawers and a package of sliced cheese.
“Okay,” I say, closing the fridge door. “Let’s go out to eat.”
Zoe doesn’t protest, and I follow her out onto the street.
Munich has a few universities huddled together with museums and shops. Its post-war architecture, rather boring and busy, especially compared to Baden-Baden.
We choose an Indian restaurant and sit down in a booth. I peruse the menu and pick a vegan dish quickly, setting my menu down and looking at Zoe.
She’s chewing her lip, contemplating her options.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to order something vegan.”
Zoe sets her menu down and stares at me. “Who are you, and what have you done with my mother?”
“Ha, ha. I’m just saying that I’m not pressuring you to eat plant-based. You’re a grown-up, and you can make your own decisions about those kinds of things.” I pause. “Even bonbons.”
“Thanks,” she says quietly. “I still eat mostly plant-based food. And I love it when we cook together. And also, I’m really glad you took care of me last night.”
I smile. “Me too. That won’t ever stop, so next time you come home, we’ll be sure to cook some of your favorites again.”
We’re interrupted by the server who takes our order. Zoe orders for both of us in German, and my chest swells with pride.
If it weren’t for her, I never would have done this trip. She’s the one that wanted to leave our little town and try something new, and here she is, flourishing.
“Actually, I was thinking about visiting you in Baden-Baden again. Maybe in two weeks?”
I fold my hands in front of me. “About that. I’ve decided to fly back home.”
Zoe’s jaw drops. “What? Why?”
“I came for you, and looking back, I don’t think that was the right thing to do. You’re doing so well at school, and you don’t need me around. I can go back home and get my job back at the yoga studio. I already emailed my old boss and the rental management company. I may not be able to move back into our house right away but—”
“What about Chris?”
“He doesn’t actually need a roommate, and his band will be going to the studio soon to work on their next album anyway. And we finished the Rock Steady videos, so I just have to edit and post them.”
“Mom! You cannot be this dense! Chris is so into you. You can’t just leave him!”
I shake my head. “We’re not like that.”
Zoe scowls at me. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice how you two disappeared at the end of the concert? Or the way you look at each other?”
“Zoe,” I say, trying to dredge up patience instead of sadness. I don’t want to think about how Chris and I looked at each other or those moments backstage that make my toes curl under the table of this booth. “Can you really see the two of us dating? We have nothing in common.”
“He’s in love with you.”
“He’s not,” I protest.
“And you’re in love with him.”
