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“You could try going to the pool again? You and Grams used to love doing aquasize.”
Mom smiles, just like I do, whenever anyone mentions Grams.
“That woman was a menace in the water. She used to kick Belinda Johnson in the knees just so she could finish first and get the best shower. Monster.”
“Total monster,” I agree. “I miss her.”
“Me, too. Every single day. That’s how you know how much she loved you. Because her love is there, reminding you to think of her.”
“So, what about the pool? You could kick out Annie Johnson’s knees, now. Take on the family mantle of being an aquasize psycho.”
“Oh, I’d love to. But I can’t wear a bathing suit.”
My insides feel like they’re being slowly ripped apart. I know better than to ask, but I can’t help myself. “Why not?”
“Because it looks like I have a watermelon instead of a stomach in my bathing suit, that’s why!” Mom laughs, like it’s funny.
But it’s not funny to me.
“What the hell, mom? Haven’t you heard that all bodies are beach bodies? All bodies are good bodies?”
“I know, sweetpea. I know. But I’m just too set in my ways.”
“That’s no excuse! What do you think it means for me if you can’t wear a bathing suit? You wear straight sizes. I’m plus-size mom. It doesn’t look like I have a watermelon under my dress. Every part of me is big. If you can’t wear a bathing suit at the town pool, should I just never leave my house?”
“Of course not! I never said that. You always put words in my mouth. You know, I think you’re beautiful.”
“And I think you’re beautiful. This whole it’s okay for you, but not for me thing is total bullshit. If it was actually fine for me, then it would be fine for you, too. It would be fine for everyone.”
“Can you cut me a break here? Things might be changing for your generation, but I grew up with a lot of expectations.”
“And I didn’t? Society pushes a ton of bullshit onto us. It’s our job to push it right back! If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. Because when you talk about yourself like that, it hurts me.”
“You know I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“I’m telling you that this hurts me. Do you get that? It hurts me.”
“I’m sorry. I never want to hurt you. But I just don’t know…”
“I can’t talk to you about this. I’m going to bring Jameson his beer like a good little girlfriend. Be back in a minute.”
“Don’t be mad. I love you, Lilybear.”
“I love you too, Mom. But you know I hate this bullshit.”
Walking over to the fridge, I grab one of the beers that I know my mom bought specifically because Jameson was coming over. She doesn’t even drink beer. And I feel like a total asshole for starting a fight with her when she invited us over to dinner and even went out of her way to buy beer for my new boyfriend.
And then I stomp every single step to the front door like the asshole child I feel like right now.
“Hey, here’s your beer. And just giving you fair warning, I’m already not in a good mood. You have my permission to run far, far away.”
Jameson jumps up from where he was crouching, running a planer along the bottom of the front door. He carefully puts the planer back on top of the open toolbox.
Then his hands are on my arms. He steadies me without even trying.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen? Your mom forbid you from marrying me or something? Because if that’s the case, I don’t think she’s seriously considered all the cute babies I’m planning on putting in you. With my dick.”
This man can always make me laugh. When I stop laughing, I pout my lips and pull my eyebrows together. “Is that how babies are made? I need to talk to someone about a stork because this is all really, really confusing.”
