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Dean – Encouraging the Artist
“Well, that was embarrassing,” Dylan says as we drive back to the apartment.
“What was?” I ask.
“You basically making out with Mae.”
“What are you talking about?” I glance over at him. His teenage frown is firmly set on his face. It’s a look I haven’t seen for a while, and the sight of it makes me take in a deep breath.
“Dad, you were just straddling her.”
“I was not.” It’s not the whole truth, but my fourteen-year-old son doesn’t need to know that. “We fell.”
Dylan rolls his eyes. “I saw that lingering look.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. We were both recovering from the shock of being chased around by a murderous mother goose.” Again, what I say is only partially true. I may have looked at Mae with a semi-lingering look. And I may have lain over her for a few more seconds than necessary. But I know nothing can happen between us. Involvement with her would mean the termination of the condos, which I can’t allow. Just because Mae gave me an easel doesn’t mean I can just quit my job to become an artist again.
“Sure. I’ll be so angry if your involvement with her blows my chances with Mina.”
“Ah-ha!” I cry out, triumphant. “You do like her. I knew it.”
His arms cross against his chest, and he flips the hood of his jacket up. “I didn’t say that.”
“Actually, you did.” I wonder if my parents had this much fun teasing me about girls when I was Dylan’s age. It’s the only payback I can get from all the brooding. “You said you don’t want me to blow your chances with her.”
“I meant just as friends.”
“Oh, okay,” in a teasing voice. “Sure, said every hormonal fourteen-year-old boy ever.”
“Dad!” Dylan cries out, flipping down his hood so he can spear me with the full force of his glare.
“Hey. I’ve been there, buddy. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Ugh,” Dylan cries. “Can we please stop talking about this?”
“Sure. But I don’t see why it’s such a big deal to admit that you have a crush on a girl.” He’s going to have to learn to do it sometime. Otherwise, he’ll never work up the courage to ask anyone out on a date. They’ll just spend their entire lives dancing around each other, the attraction growing, almost taking that next step but never.
I shift in my seat. All this thinking about Dylan has made it uncomfortably clear that he’s not the only Cornel man denying his feelings. Although, I know that my attraction for Mae can’t be acted on because it will only lead to one thing - heartbreak.
Dylan shifts his body toward mine. “Okay, then. Do you like Mae?” he asks point blank.
“Wha—no.”
He scoffs. “What a hypocrite.”
“That isn’t fair. Adult relationships are much more complicated than fairytale romances you guys get to have in high school.”
“How so?”
I sigh. “Because there’s more…things involved to consider.” More ways you open yourself up for disappointment.
“You mean kids?” Dylan asks.
“Sometimes.” I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been so caught up in what a relationship with Mae would mean for the condos that I hadn’t thought about what it would mean for Dylan. What it would do to both of our kids if things didn’t work out?
“Well, you won’t hear me complaining,” Dylan says. “I don’t want you to get married again.”
This comment completely throws me off.
