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After I got my DUI last spring, the first person I thought about was my mom. And to say I was dreading that phone call would be an understatement.
I didn’t want to be the reason for any more heartbreak in her life. I didn’t want to see disappointment flash across her eyes because I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. But my mom was surprisingly far from disappointed in me. Instead, she wasunderstanding. She knew why I did what I did, and although she could empathize with me, she did make me promise after some very stern conversations that I would never do anything like what I did again for fear of jeopardizing my future.
I swore on my life I wouldn’t because, even at only five foot three, my mom can be scary as hell when she needs to be.
And maybe I let my imagination run wild, but I couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t so much that she was scared of me ruining my future. More so that I would become like my father.
Amonster.
Or maybe this was really just myownfear.
She picks up one of the coffees in front of her. “And thanks for the coffee, honey.”
“Well, I thought we could first take a quick tour of the campus. Maybe show you some of the sights in the area and then,” I pause, not sure what my mom’s reaction is going to be, “I thought we could meet up with my girlfriend, and then all of us could go out to dinner in the North End if that’s ok?” I rush the words out of my mouth, nervously waiting for her response.
No one explains to you that the first time you tell your mom you have a girlfriend is one of the scariest fucking feelings you will ever experience. My heart is thundering in my chest, but I try to play it cool by taking a sip of my coffee, acting as if her reaction will make no difference to me.
But that’s not true at all because my mom’s approval matters to me … a lot. Call it mommy issues or simply call it what it is: a boy who grew up watching his mom suffer at the hands of her abusive husband, only to then have to spend his childhood quickly turning into the man she needed to take care of her. To make her proud. To make her feel safe. And to make her happy.
Something that asshole would never be able to do.
Her eyes go wide, and her smile gets more prominent. “You have a girlfriend?” She brings her hands to her face with excitement. “I was beginning to think I would never hear those words leave your mouth.”
“Ok, we don’t need to make this into a big deal or anything,” I say, feeling my face getting hot as I rip off a piece of the blueberry muffin in front of me and shove it in my mouth. But the relief I feel from her words has at least caused my heartbeat to slow down to a normal human speed.
“Well, it’s about time,” she says. “Forget about the tour. I want to meet your girlfriend!”
Laughter escapes from me as I see she’s ready to jump off her seat. “Well, I told her we would pick her up around 5:30, so we still have plenty of time for the tour, and also, you might already kind of know her.”
“I do?”
“Yeah, umm, it’s Natalie Spencer.” I wait for her to soak in this information. She knows Natalie. Or at least she knows who she is from seeing her around the Gordons’ home over the years.
“Oh my goodness, I remember Natalie. What a beautiful girl! I have never been properly introduced, but you know how much I adore her mother, Nancy. Such a nice family,” she adds.
God, it feels like a hundred bricks have been lifted off my shoulders, and for the first time this morning, I feel like I can breathe. Not that I was scared my mom wouldn’t approve of Natalie — because I knew she would — but I just needed to hear her say these words out loud to me.
I smile, and my mom smiles back and then takes my hand on the table.
“I’m so happy for you, honey.”
“I’m happy too, mom.”
“Well, not that all of this lovey-dovey talk isn’t fun, but are we going to start this tour soon or what?” Nick asks, which causes both my mom and me to laugh.
* * *
After a couple of hours touring every square inch possible on campus with Nick and my mom, and even having time to show them Faneuil Hall, I park my car in front of Natalie’s apartment building.
“You guys wait here. I’ll go get Natalie.” I jump out, noticing my mom examining herself in the rearview mirror, confirming that she’s just as nervous about this introduction as Natalie is.
Making my way through the lobby, I see James, the nightly concierge on duty with whom I have recently become acquainted.
“How are you doing this fine evening, Mr. Thomas?” he asks.
“James, I told you just to call me Nate, please. And I’m good. Just taking out Natalie to meet my family for the first time.”
James lets out a deep whistle. “Oh boy. I remember having to do that many moons ago with my in-laws. Best of luck to both of you.” A slight chuckle escapes from him.
