Page 68 of The Good Guy on My Porch

“Because she’s so busy with her work? You know, I looked for her on-line, searched her name and all, and I couldn’t find a thing. Seems strange for a website designer not to have a website.”

A sick dread rolled through me. Mary wasn’t going to let this go and everyone was going to know my mother’s secret. I could have gotten angry, but it wouldn’t have done me any good and Mary didn’t deserve my anger. “Can we talk about this after work? I’ll take you to dinner at that Mexican restaurant you like.”

“Perfect,” she said, like we were just making a date to hang out together, not for her to interrogate me about my mother. “I’ll see you at six.”

***

Mary’s eyes were damp, her plate of enchiladas untouched. “We knew something was wrong, but we had no idea…” She pressed a hand to her chest. “You poor child.”

“Me?” I had told Mary about my mother’s overwhelming anxiety and paranoia, but I hadn’t really talked about myself or what impact her illness had on me. “I’m fine. My mother’s the one who’s sick.”

“But you’ve been caring for her and keeping her secret…All this time.” Mary shook her head. “Why didn’t you ask for help? How have you kept this secret?”

“Aunt Melly helps with Mom. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

She reached across the table and covered my hand with her own. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to pretend with me. I may never have cared for someone with the type of illness your mother suffers from, but I cared for my Howie for five years while the cancer spread through his body. I understand the toll it takes on a person.”

I pulled my hand out from under hers and dropped my attention to my food, my chest tight for some inexplicable reason. “It’s not a big deal. She doesn’t have cancer, she just doesn’t like to leave the house.”

Mary said nothing and, when I looked up, she was eating, her gaze on me pitying and sad. I didn’t need her pity. If she had any idea what a terrible daughter I’d been to my mother, she wouldn’t feel any pity for me at all.

We finished our meal in silence and I thought the conversation was done. Mary had all my secrets and she’d move on. I was so very wrong.

When the check arrived, I reached for it, but Mary beat me to it. “I’ve got this, dear.”

I didn’t argue, since I felt like I’d been on trial the entire dinner. After the waitress took Mary’s credit card, she folded her hands together. “I want you to take me to see your mother. Tonight.”

“I thought you understood,” I said. “Visitors upset her.”

“Too bad. I’m an old friend, someone who should have been visiting her for years. I’m going to make up for that and I’m going to start tonight.”

“Even if it upsets her? Even if it scares her?”

“I’m no psychologist, but I’m not exactly a scary person. I’ll keep her secret for you, Dilly, but I want to see her. I may upset her at first, but she’ll get over it.”

“I don’t think you understand the severity of her condition.” Panic rolled through me. Mom had been so calm, and if Mary upset her,…It would send her into fits and Oscar would discover just how difficult a relationship with me could be. “If she gets upset—” The waitress returned Mary’s card and I shut up while Mary signed the slip and slid the card back into her wallet.

“I see you,” Mary said. “The ladies and I have taken a special interest in you since we started coming to your book club and we’re all worried. Do you know how many days of the month you come to work with dark circles under your eyes because you haven’t gotten enough sleep?”

“I’m a night owl. I always have been.”

She pinched her lips together and shook her head. “I’m trying to help you, Dilly. Why do you continue to lie to me?”

Because I didn’t know how not to lie? Because if I admitted to her that taking care of my mother was taking a toll on me, I might not be able to convince myself it was fine? I might start to resent my mother. Because I hated the pity in her eyes? I was strong and capable, and I didn’t need anyone’s help. “I’m asking you, Mary, as kindly as I can, to back off. You think you’ll be helping by seeing my mother, but you won’t. She’s going to freak out and then she’ll be calling me at three AM, because she thinks you’re back and trying to break in to kidnap her for some nefarious purpose. She’s been calm this week. Please, just let this go.”

Her eyes widened and her jaw set. “I had no idea, Dilly. I’m so, so sorry. I let you down. We all did. But I’m going to fix it.”

“You can’t fix this. There is no fixing my mother.”

She pushed back her chair and stood. “Come on. I’ll drive. We’re going to see your mother.”

“No. I refuse to take you to see her.”

She walked around the table and faced me, cupping my cheek. “I wish you would let me help, Dilly. But if you refuse, I’m not going to push. I’ll see you at book club on Tuesday.”

And just like that, she left. It was way, way too easy and I had a bad feeling this wasn’t over. I needed to let my aunt know to be on the lookout for Mary, but she wouldn’t be back from Italy for two more days. I left a message on her answering machine and headed for home. I just wanted to snuggle down on the couch in Oscar’s arms and forget everything Mary had said. Forget the pity in her eyes. I was fine. Everything was fine.

***

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