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“I suppose you’re alone,” she states, her words spoken in a sigh. I know she’s asking about Dad, in her own roundabout way.
“Yes, Mom. He’s still at work.” I pause, thinking before I continue. “I don’t know when he’ll be home either. I was afraid if I stopped to ask he’d drag me into staying late, too.”
Mom takes a deep breath and her shoulders fall. She dog-ears the page of her book and sits it on the bench next to her, lifting the charcuterie board onto the table between us and waving at me to partake. I plan on ordering something more substantial once I’m done with our talk, but for the moment, I fold a sliver of fig into a piece of prosciutto and pop it into my mouth. My mother is like any other, and it makes her happy to watch me eat, and it also ascertains that she won’t pinch my arm later and tell me that I need to eat more and work out less.
“That’s alright, dear. I figured that he wouldn’t be home on time. He never is.” She waves her hand in the air in front of her, as if dismissing the subject. “I’m going to have a ladies brunch book club meeting in the morning, anyway, so I wouldn’t want him to keep me up.”
I know she’s lying, but I don’t mention it. “Sure.” I help myself to another piece of meat and a slice of brie, chasing it with the whiskey when it arrives, to give myself some liquid courage before I start what I know is going to be an awkward conversation. “But in the same vein…Mom, can I ask you something?”
She looks up at me, giving me her full attention. “Of course. What is it?”
“Are you and Dad…God, I don’t even know how to ask this. Are you and Dad like…okay? Things just seem so off between you two.”
She blinks a few times, shocked, before gathering her thoughts and answering. “Yes, Seb. We’re fine. Sure, I wish he didn’t work so much, but–”
“I don’t just mean that,” I interrupt, causing her to squeeze her eyes in suspicion. “It’s been like this for months, if not years. There seems to be no…romance, I guess, between the two of you. I know that him working so much overtime has a lot to do with it, but it just feels deeper than that, and it worries me.”
Her gaze sharpens as she looks me over, pursing her lips. “Does this have anything to do with the parents of a certain lovely young woman you may have met at the ball? Because I assure you, there is nothing at all similar between myself and Margaret van Dieren.”
I groan, rubbing my face with my hands. “Mom, we both know that this oddness between you and Dad has been going on a lot longer than the amount of time that I’ve known Julia.”
She waves her hands dismissively again. “Darling, don’t worry about us. I’m sure there is quite enough on your plate without being forced to play relationship therapist between your parents.”
I hate that she’s trying to blow the entire subject off, but I know this must be a sensitive subject for her, so I try not to press too hard. But I do order a second drink when I finish the first. “It’s just…you guys don’t seem to be in love at all anymore. I haven’t seen you two kiss in years.”
“Sebastian…” Mom reprimands slowly. “We’re aging, and like all couples, those sorts of things begin to slow down.” It’s clear that she’s lying to me, and maybe to herself, but I don’t want to hurt my mother by calling her out on it. Especially if, like I suspect, she’s trying to force herself to believe everything that she’s telling me. “Just because you don’t see us kissing doesn’t mean that there is anything wrong. But enough about all that.”
“Mom–”
“Hush, you. Since you got the chance to talk about uncomfortable things, now it’s my turn, and I expect you to sit there and listen to me just like I did for you.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes, anticipating the worst. “Oh God…”
“I just think we should revisit the night of the ball, don’t you? My son, the successful and handsome man that he is, has a single dance with the Van Dieren heiress and suddenly I have Margaret on my doorstep harping on how I should keep you away from her precious, innocent daughter.” Mom laughs into her napkin, indicating to the server that she needs a fresh glass of sangria while plucking a blueberry from the empty glass out and chewing it. “You must have made quite the impression on the girl for all of that to happen. For someone who didn’t want to go to that ball, you quickly changed your tune when you met Julia.”
Another piece of brie and chutney goes into my mouth so I can stall, but my mother watches me expectantly with her hands folded in front of her, and I know I’m not getting out of this talk. Oh well, it had to be done anyway. “I took her out last night,” I fess out, gauging her reaction. “I swear that I tried to cut things off like you first suggested, but when I went to see her, she was pretty adamant that she didn’t want us to stop speaking to each other. So, who am I to try and tell a woman what to do?”
Mom isn’t amused by the joke. “Sebastian. I don’t blame you for being attracted to the girl and taking her out, but Margaret isn’t one to mess with. Juliaisquite young for you, I have to agree with Margaret there, but the age difference doesn’t strike me as being as much of a problem as the fact that Julia’s mother clearly doesn’t approve of the match.”
I shake my head. “I’m not afraid of her. And after spending time with Julia last night…well, it’s safe to say that things are going pretty well between us.”
Mom blanches. “Please tell me you did not sleep with that girl.”
I choke on my drink. “Mom! No! Christ…” I down some water and catch my breath.
“Then how well, exactly, Sebastian? I was just poking fun at first. I had no idea that you were really dead set on pursuing Julia.”
I inhale slowly before speaking, my throat still burning. “I’m thinking of setting up a meeting with Margaret myself and telling her that I’m serious about her daughter.”
Mom blinks in confusion. “How serious?”
“Well, you know…serious enough to get engaged and all that.”
Any color that had started to make its way back into my mother’s cheeks flees once more, leaving her looking pale and shaken. “What! Darling, you barely know the girl. This is going to be the most troublesome match that you could possibly have chosen. There are plenty of other–”
I shake my head once, quickly. “No, Mom. There is no other Julia. And I find it funny that you and Dad are always harping on me to find someone to settle with and when I do, there is suddenly an issue with it.”
“Sebastian, love, I want nothing more than for you to be happy. But I just don’t think you understand the depth of difficulty you’re getting yourself into. Margaret isveryprotective of her children, and it’s common knowledge that it is unlikely to ever be someone that she considers a good match for any of them unless she hand-picks them herself. Margaret is a fierce, dangerous woman, and I just don’t want you to be caught up in her web if this thing you have with her daughter is just some sort of passing fancy.”
