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“Remember the date I went on?”
“The bad one,” she says, nodding.
“Well…” I swallow. “It’s kind of crazy. Earlier today, I ran into his dad.”
“Your date’s dad?”
I almost snap,That’s what we’re talking about, right?But it’s not Mom’s fault I’m so on edge. “Yeah,” I reply, “and things got… well, intimate. I really like him. I think he likes me, too, but I’m unsure where to go from here.”
“Wait a second.” Mom massages the bridge of her nose, a familiar gesture. She’s struggling to fit what I’m saying into her head. “How old is he?”
I remember what Lexi said. “Forty-one or forty-two. Somewhere around there.” More than twice my age. Twice my experience. I wonder if he was pissed at us not being able to have sex, but I’m not here as some freaking sex device for him to use, even if I wanted it badly. I still want it.
“Twenty-one years older than you,” Mom says.
I give her a look, wordlessly saying,Are we seriously going there?
She reads the look and shakes her head. “Don’t make this about your father.”
I drop my cutlery. I almost leap to my feet. I seriously need to calm down. Maybe life was easier when I wasn’t so involved with people—just light, color, and brushstrokes. “I don’t see how you can disapprove.”
“I never said I did.”
“You didn’t have to.”
She sighs. “Explain what this courtship looks like so far.”
Courtshipis just one of the many words that show Mom’s age. On top of simply being older, she’s also an old soul like me. “We’ve met twice. We’ve kissed.” I won’t mention the rest. “But things are complicated. His son is sending me flowers, so that’s no good. And…”I can’t give him what he wants. “I’m not sure he wants the same thing as me.”
“What doyouwant?” she asks.
I hesitate, finding it difficult to look her in the face. I don’t think she’d judge me, but she’s clearly worried, and maybe she’s right to be. “Remember what you said about meeting Dad? The moment you saw him, you sawme. That’s what you said. You saw a future family.”
“It’s true,” Mom says.
“Well, ditto,” I laugh, but nothing’s funny. It’s more like I’m trying to expel some awkward energy. “The second I saw him, I knew I wanted him, Mom. I knew I wanted a family. I don’t want to date around. I don’t want to party. I’ve found my man, and that’s that.”
“Oh, Sam,” Mom says.
“Why,oh, Sam?” I snap. “It’s the same thi—”
“No, it’s not,” she replies. “I was twenty-eight when I met your father. He was older than me but nottwicemy age, and I was a grownup.”
“Iama grownup,” I snap. “I thought you were going to be supportive.”
“You’ve met this man twi—”
“You knew right away!” I stand up, the chair screeching.
“Please sit down,” Mom says. “We can talk about this civilly.”
“But you’re against it already. You don’t even want to give us a chance.”
“I want you to be careful,” Mom says. “I’m not saying you can’t see this man. I’m aware that, legally, you can make that decision yourself. However, there’s a big difference between what happened between me and your father and what you’re describing. What if this man does this often? Finds younger women,veryyoung, and manipulates them?”
“Who said anything about me being manipulated? I felt all of this before I even knew who he was!”
Mom sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose again. She shakes her head sadly. “That’s what I’m afraid of. A forty-two-year-old man has so much more experience than a woman your age. You’ve never had very many boyfriends.”
