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“But, Mom—”
“Hey, if it’s a simple matter of one or both of them accompanying their kid because they don’t know us from a hole in the wall, no problem. I have it covered. I can get more tickets.”
“You’re the best, Aunty Shay. I love you!” He rounds the table, hugging her tight in his little arms.
“Aunty Shay to the rescue again. Problem solved,” she declares with a bright smile.
I wish it was. She doesn’t know the spot she put us in on behalf of making her nephew happy at any cost.
He unlocks his little arms from around her neck and heads away from the kitchen. “Where do you think you’re going?” I ask. “You’re not done eating.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Vegetables.”
“No one likes brussels sprouts, Mom.”
“Plenty of people do.”
“You don’t. You only like them ‘cause you’re a mom. They look like little alien heads. Yuck.”
I’m striking out left and right here.
“Can I go to my room? I need to get ready for bed so I can tell Jackson about the monster truck show tomorrow.”
“Go ahead,” I say with a sigh as he runs off before he can hear my answer.
“What’s with the faces? It’s a truck show, just harmless fun. How uptight are this kid’s parents?”
“You don’t get it, Shay.”
“Enlighten me. What’s to get?”
“Mom, would you?”
“You should. I’m going to help my grandson take a bath and tuck him into bed before I go upstairs to my apartment.”
Elbows on the table, I put my face in my hands and exhale noisily.
“What the hell is going on? A little dirt never hurt anyone.”
I get up and scrape my plate into the garbage. “You should just make this an outing for you and Jacob alone. Bonding time.”
“We bond all the time. He just made a new friend he talks about nonstop. He had a rough time last year adjusting to school and making new friends after being surrounded by adults and being the center of attention. I’m just happy for him.”
I bite the side of my lips, pressing them together. He hated school for the first six months. He hardly talked to any of the other kids. Every day he would ask, “Why are we going back? When is it going to be over?” He was killing me with that and the eyes and the crying. Not fun times when I have to be the mother who says, ‘Sorry if you don’t like it. You’re going anyway.’
“I know what it was for him. I was crying in the mornings after I dropped him off.”
“Then it’s settled. We both want him to be over-the-moon happy. Call this kid’s parents up and invite them—even better, you can come too. It’ll probably be less awkward for them than sitting next to the tattooed lady in all black that’s screaming at the top of her lungs to smash the shit out that truck.”
“No, I’m sure it won’t be.”
“Why’s that?”
“Jacob’s new best friend Jackson, they’ve nicknamed each other the two Js—”
“That’s cute and catchy,” she says with a smile.
