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“Mm-hmm. Funny how you rarely made it home when I was on a school break… like Christmas.” I turn to Callum and ask, “Did you make us dessert? Dinner was fabulous as usual, but I’m still a little hungry.” Privately I think my mom could use some more calories. I’m actually stuffed.
He has a quizzical look on his face as he answers, “I did actually. I made a Moroccan lemon cake to go with the rest of the menu. Maybe I could also cut up some fresh strawberries to go with it.” I’m relieved to see that he’s aware of my mom’s obvious hunger too. However, given how close Callum’s family is, I can imagine he finds my relationship—or lack of one—with my mother pretty strange.
Apparently, she’s wisely chosen not to argue with me about her motherly attentiveness while I was growing up. “Don’t you kids have any wine?” My mom looks at the glass of ice water Callum served her with a sneer.
Good grief. We’re off to a great start.
I get up, pour her a glass of Chardonnay, and place it in front of her, trying hard not to smack the table with the glass. I’m attempting to keep my cool. “So, Mom, how long do you plan to stay?”
Her head snaps up from eating and she squints at me. “Darling, I just got here, and you’re already trying to boot me out? I’m afraid I’m a bit hurt.” She pulls a sad face with big, brown puppy-dog eyes, but I’m not particularly swayed by her performance. Then she surprises me by saying, “You know I sold the condo in Chicago a year ago. It was too expensive to keep it when I was living abroad. And you didn’t seem to want to live there.”
“Because I got a job in Indiana and then stayed here after I quit. You know I was engaged to Ben, and this is where he was working. But…you don’t have the condo anymore? Why didn’t you tell me? What did you do with all your furniture and stuff?”
“Well, I sold it mostly furnished and had someone come and clean out all the rest of the things. They sold what they could and donated the rest.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Mom, some of that was stuff that belonged to me. Didn’t you think it would be nice to let me know so I could decide what I wanted to keep before disposing of all of it?”
“Petra! You’ve had plenty of time to take what you wanted out of the condo, and you left things there formeto take care of. I assumed that if you hadn’t taken the items you wanted by now, they weren’t important to you.”
“I didn’t have space for some of the stuff, but I guess it’s too late to worry about that now. I’m flabbergasted you wouldn’t at least warn me before this, though.”
“There wasn’t that much, really.”
“I had an entire bedroom full of furniture! You gave that to me for my birthday.”
“I may have bought it for the room somewhere around your birthday, but the furniture was all mine to sell. Not yours.”
I throw up my hands in disgust and scoot back from the table. “Funny how you told me ‘Happy Birthday’ when you had it all installed then. But there were old photos, books, letters, and diaries that I would have loved to have had, Mom. I’m… well… I’m in shock right now.” I look at Weston and Callum and say, “Thanks for a great dinner. I think I need to get some air.” I head outside to toss the ball around for the dogs. I have to get away from this. There wasn’t much from my childhood that I want souvenirs from, but I’m still shocked that the woman has no sense of boundaries. Once again, I feel as if my own mother is a stranger. This is one of those times when I wish I’d had a father or a sibling.
I feel so much more grounded and even loved in this house with the guys—humanandcanine—than I ever did before. Thank God for them.
After horsing around with the dogs for a while, I realize they’d all like to go in for a drink of water, and I can see that the kitchen is empty. So I go in and start loading the dishwasher. I assume Weston and Callum are attempting to get my mother settled downstairs. I doubt either of them would be willing to let her anywhere near the upstairs part of the house.
Once the dishes are all done, I head for the stairs, and sure enough, I can hear her flirty voice jabbering away at the guys. It sounds like a pretty one-sided conversation from here. I decide to be polite and head downstairs. When the dogs see me doing that, they all race ahead of me, spraying water droplets from their wet faces.
Gus, in his friendliest fashion, makes a beeline to my mom and smiles at her. She jumps back as his teeth are bared in a grin. More water and probably some drool is still plopping off his muzzle as he wags his tail at her and noses her in the crotch.
“What is this creature doing?” she nearly shouts. “Get him off of me!”
“Sorry. He’s just trying to get acquainted,” I tell her. “Gus, come.” He ambles back to me and then detours to Callum and sits on his feet. He’s always adored Callum. The dog has terrific taste.
After much more persuasive talk and plenty of cajoling, we get my mom to agree to try sleeping on the couch. I bring her a bunch of linens and make sure she has everything she needs. She’s looking pretty beat, so we make up the bed for her.
“Thank you all. I’m going to take a shower now and then get some sleep. I’m suffering terribly from jetlag, you know.”
“Ms. Feeney…” Weston begins and is interrupted immediately.
“It’s Maggie, honey.”
“Ah… yeah, if you want to wash some clothes, the laundry room is right off the kitchen. You can’t miss it. Otherwise, you ought to have everything you need. Callum makes us breakfast in the morning, but if you’re hungry before then, feel free to raid the refrigerator. We generally eat pretty early on a weekday so he can get to work.”
“Well, Callum,” she eyes him longingly again. “You sound like a talented guy. I bet you can make everyone very happy.”
He sends me a heated look. “You have no idea.”
My mom regards him hungrily. “I’d like to find out.”
I am mortified.
