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“Did you forget that we have a lunch date today, Andries?”
I groan internally. Yes, I had forgotten, and I really,reallydidn’t want to go have lunch with my mother, who would be able to pick apart everything that was wrong while simultaneously making me feel guilty for being sad. Still, there is no way to avoid her, and I know it.
“No, I didn’t forget. Can I just meet you there?”
Her voice brightens. “Yes, I’ll see you soon! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”
“Me too,” I lie, and Mom snorts.
“Sure you have, love. Anyway, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I hang up, staring at my phone screen in denial about having to make such a public appearance in the state I’m in.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, before opening the Uber app and ordering a car.
***
Outside of the restaurant, Mom looks like a drop of springtime in the gray winter, her knit sweater is robin’s egg blue with yellow on the collar and sleeves. I hug her obediently, wishing that being held by my mother offered any of the comfort that it used to when I was a boy.
She releases me first, holding my face in her hands to get a good look at me. I pull away quickly, but not before her happy grin becomes a frown.
“You look awful,” she says, a note of alarm in her voice. “When is the last time you’ve eaten?”
Thinking about the piece of cold pizza I ate walking out the door this morning, I tell her, “Breakfast.”
Her hands on my shoulders, she turns me this way and that, tutting in disapproval as she does so. “Well, I can’t imagine it was a very good one. Are you sick? Or… this certainly isn’t about all that Roxanne business still, is it?”
I clench my teeth against the judgmental sound of her tone. “It’s a lot of things.”
“Hmm. Sit down, let’s get some nutrition in you before you collapse before my eyes, and then we can talk.”
Predictably, she takes immediate control of the situation, ordering a green smoothie that tastes like grass and apples, insisting that it will help me feel better, because clearly I’m malnourished. I choke some of it down, unable to stop the sneer I make as it hits my tongue.
She orders lunch too, but I’m barely paying attention to whatever she’s decided I’m eating. Anything to get this whole ordeal over sooner than later.
“I was hoping to catch up on everything you’ve been doing at school, love, but I think your personal life is a little more pressing. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Mom, you know what it is.” I rub my temples with my fingers, feeling stress building there rapidly. “I just need some more time, and some space to start over.”
She sighs sadly, stirring her hot tea, the spoon clinking delicately against the ceramic mug. “She’s just one woman, Andries. And not a very impressive one, at that. Do you think this is because she was your first love, or is there something else going on here that we aren’t seeing?”
I know what she’s getting at, even if it offends me. It’s at my age that men start to show signs of mental illness, especially things like schizophrenia, and I guess I can’t blame her for thinking it might be something more serious considering how long it was taking me to get over Roxanne. Still, though, I just wish she and everyone else could just accept that my heart is broken, and nothing more.
“We had basically moved in together and were never apart. I know it happened fast, and you and Dad don’t approve of my partner or the speed with which we combined our lives, but it felt so right and real at the time. It still feels real now, which is why I’m taking so long to get over this, Mom. I’m not losing my mind.”
“Oh, darling, I never said you were. It’s just…” She grabs my hand, and squeezes. “I’m so worried about you. We all are.”
I gently extricate my hand from hers and tuck them both under the table on my knees. “I just need time. More time.”
“Drink your smoothie,” she commands, and I obey. “I understand that time's supposed to heal everything, but I think we can speed up the timeline a little bit, don’t you think?”
“Not really.”
She huffs. “Okay, well. My mom told me she spoke to you about doing an internship at your dad’s company. I think you should do it. You can still attend school part time, and the hands-on experience will be so valuable when you start looking for work in earnest. Or when you take over the family company.” She winks at me, to which I only scowl. “You need something to keep you busy, and it might as well be something that will benefit you in the long run.”
I could almost laugh. She has no idea that I’d be more than useless at a business internship. The only classes I’ve taken have been for English, and something tells me my dad doesn’t need a poet on the payroll. But since she doesn’t know of my major switch, I hold off on chuckling out loud.
“It’s not for me, Mom. Give it to Elise.”
