Page 47 of Coping Skills

Daniel didn’t answer. He hadn’t told Marcus about anything that happened this semester. And he didn’t want to spill his guts now.

When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to answer, Marcus crossed his arms and faced the window, muttering something about Daniel needing to get laid.

He holed himself up in his room the rest of that night. He knew Marcus would tell Mom what happened at their dad’s. He also knew his mom would corner him and make him talk before he went back to school.

She waited until the next evening, after they’d eaten Thanksgiving dinner (for the second time for him and Marcus) and cleaned up the kitchen. He sat watching football in the living room. Marcus was somewhere else. He didn’t know where, nor did he much care.

His mom came in, two plates in hand, each with a slice of chess pie. His stomach twisted when he saw it, the memory of Elena making him the same pie rising unbidden. What had once been his favorite pie now had too many other associations. But he accepted the plate, not wanting to hurt his mom’s feelings. The sweet custard filling tasted like ashes and sawdust.

She took a bite, watching him as he set the fork back down on the plate after his first bite. “What’s wrong, baby? You still too full for pie? Normally you want it as soon as we’re done eating dinner.”

Setting the pie on the coffee table, he shook his head. “I just don’t feel like pie right now.”

His mom fixed him with a glare. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She pointed at him with her fork. “You haven’t been yourself since you got home. Marcus told me what happened yesterday. Now, I know your dad’s not your favorite person, and you get annoyed at his constant lineup of girlfriends, but I know I raised you better than to treat people like that. What’s going on with you?”

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “You remember that girl I met on my trip at the beginning of the summer? Elena?”

She nodded, eating her pie, staying quiet so he could spill his guts. And he did. He told her everything, how he started spending time with Elena at the beginning of the semester, her dad’s accident, how he wanted to be there for her, make everything alright again.

His mom listened, the way she always had, making encouraging sounds when appropriate, but not saying anything, waiting until he’d finished.

She cocked her head to one side, scraping the last of the custard off her plate with the edge of her fork. “Now, one thing I don’t understand is why that girl and all her problems makes you not want my pie.” Her perceptive brown eyes met his. “Can you tell me that?”

He let out a low chuckle, not expecting that question first, but not entirely surprised. “Elena bakes when she’s stressed. Pies. She offered to make me one, whatever kind I wanted. I asked for a chess pie. Mom, her pie’s almost as good as yours. And now when I see it I think of her.”

Narrowing her eyes, she stared at him. “Baby, you better get over that, because that’s my favorite pie. And yours too. So you’re going to be eating chess pie at Thanksgiving and Christmas for as long as I’m around. Don’t let some girl ruin our family traditions.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gave a satisfied nod. “Now, for the rest.” She paused, contemplating her next words. “I can tell you have strong feelings for her, so I hope I won’t make you mad with what I’m going to say.” She met his eyes. “That girl has lots of problems, and there’s nothing you could’ve done to make them better. She has to deal with them on her own.”

He opened his mouth to object, but she wouldn’t let him. “I know, baby. I know. You’re a good boy, and you care about her. It’s natural for you to want to make things better if you can. But that’s my point—there’s nothing you could’ve done. She needs to work through what happened over the summer on her own. It was traumatic. And she used you as a way to try to deal with her trauma, taking advantage of your feelings and good nature.”

She shook her head, her lips pursed. “From the way you’re acting, I think you still have strong feelings for her. Maybe you should talk to her, let her apologize. Then you can decide what you want to do. If you still care about her, maybe you can give her another chance. Assuming that’s what she wants too, of course. But if she’s sought you out twice after breaking up with you …” She shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like someone who’s over you either.”

Taking a deep breath, Daniel considered his mom’s words. But he still didn’t think he was ready to hear Elena’s apology, especially if she did want to try again. He didn’t know what he wanted. Unable to agree or disagree, he just nodded. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll think about it.”

His mom looked him over, examining his face. “Good. Now, eat your pie.” She picked up the plate off the coffee table, patting his cheek with one hand. “You’re a good boy, Daniel. Trust yourself. You’ll figure out the right thing to do.”

He nodded and took a bite of his pie, letting the creamy sweetness coat his tongue, focusing on this pie, here, and not letting memories cloud the present. He hoped his mom was right. Because right now he had no idea what to do.

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