“C’mon, Mom,” I said, smacking my hand on the table and startling her. Shit, I needed to get my resentment under control. “Are you seriously trying to tell me it’s not still going on?”
She shook her head adamantly. “Not in a while.”
I didn’t know if I believed her. She might say anything not to have me worry.
“Then why are you still . . .” My eyes darted around the house. “. . . sticking around here. Not doing other things that you love?”
Her eyes crinkled in panic. I got her there. She was still being the dutiful wife.
“I like being married to your father,” she said sweeping her hand about the room. “This lifestyle suits me.”
I took a deep breath and attempted to rein in my irritation. “You’re so much more than . . . all of this.”
We were quiet, staring past each other, lost in our own thoughts. I wasn’t sure if or when she’d ever see that. That she had so much more to give. Outside of this house. This community. This marriage.
“What about all of his out-of-town trips?” I had always suspected my father had kept other women. Maybe even took them on these business trips.
“He works hard, Nate,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “You know that—”
“Mom,” I squeezed her hand so she’d look at me. “Let’s be real here.”
“I don’t think so, Nate.” Why did this woman hold her cards so close to her vest? It made me want to shake her and rescue her all at once. “You still love him?”
“Y . . . Yes.” Her voice caught on that word and that alone told me so much. That she struggled to love him. That there was a fine line between love and hate. That she still saw some redemption in him—somewhere, somehow—and I just didn’t get it after all of this time. “Does he feel the same way?”
Her eyes filled with shiny tears. “Of course.” But her words came out like a plea. A hope. A prayer.
“Mom,” I said, squeezing her hands. “I hate to see you cry. I just . . . want you to be happy.”
“Now you listen to me.” She dabbed at her eyes and straightened herself. “I want you and your brother to finish college, find decent jobs, and make it in this world.”
“If that’s why you’re . . .” The idea that she’d stick with him even after we’d become adults made me see stars. “I’d make it on my own, Mom. I’d leave the keys in that damn car out there and walk back to school.”
“Stop it. You’re so close,” she said, gripping my hand. “You deserve the education he’s providing you.”
I stared into her eyes. Would she leave then—after I got my shiny diploma? Or would she find a new excuse to stay?
“What about you?” she asked suddenly.
I blinked slowly at her. “What do you mean?”
“What are you so afraid of, honey?” she asked. “Why won’t you let anybody get close?”
“Like I said before, I think you know why,” I said and she waited me out, her eyes on me. “What if I’m just like him?”
“You’re not,” she responded immediately. Vehemently.
“But what if I am?” I mumbled, my stomach recoiling at the words.
“Honey, there are so many differences between the two of you.”
It was true that my brother was the golden son. He was more like my father—more like his buddy, actually. They’d watch sports together while I was more interested in building Legos. In fact, I had an entire cityscape erected in my bedroom. I’d always loved construction and design, even back then.
This one year, I begged my mom to take me to the Frank Lloyd Wright museum and I marveled at the blueprints and the modern lines of the houses. I always knew I wanted to do something with structures, either building or planning.
I saw there was a program at TSU that seemed to fit my plan. I chose to attend a large university as opposed to a private college, to my father’s dismay. But by then, he was already beginning to lose me. My respect. My fear. And he knew it.
“You dated Bethany for a long time in school,” my mother said. “You were so sweet on her. It could happen again.”
She smiled remembering my high school girlfriend, while I cringed. The summer after graduation, we were carefree and in love, having sex whenever we could be alone. But there was that one night that ruined everything.
We were experimenting with different positions and I got too comfortable, too in the moment. She let me handcuff her, which was so arousing, and during sex, my hand came down hard on her ass, once. Just once. But that was all that it took. She yelped and cringed and looked back at me with surprise and fear in her eyes.