Page 81 of The Rules

“Here’s two more,” his mothersaid, dropping two white envelopes on the table in front of him. Dylan tore one open, examining it. A letter from her dentist about a payment plan for her last cleaning. His mother let out a long-suffering sigh. “I just don’t know where they all come from.”

“From the businesses where you buy stuff, Ma. Cable company. Credit cards.” He shook his head. His father had been useless when it came to managing money, mostly because they didn’t have any, but maybe she deserved some of the blame. The woman couldn’t balance a checkbook for the life of her, and she was from the generation that still used those.

He entered the amounts of the last two bills into her online bill pay and wrote “paid”on the front of each of them, then put the dentist letter in his pocket. He’d take care of that one. He stacked them with the others, handing them over for her “filing system”.

“Thank you, Dylan.” Her smile was genuine and he felt guilty for his irritation. She was doing her best. She always had.

“No problem.”

“So,” she said, turning back to her oven. “What’s new? Have you found a nice girl yet?”

He almost laughed at the standard grilling, thinking of Dani in the shower last weekend, and how not nice she could be. He bit the inside of his lip to suppress a grin. He could tell her about it (well, not that part) or he could just let Dani show up to her birthday dinner and shock her properly. He was looking forward to the shocking. The shocking would be good. And if he examined a little further, he was just looking forward to her being there. Dani wasn’t one to turn things like this into milestones. And this wasn’t one. It was a simple favor. She would help him get through it and she wouldn’t overanalyze it. Since she’d said yes, he’d started to let himself imagine her being there for all of the things like that in life. Work stuff, times when he couldn’t deal with his mother. Partners in crime. Maybe this was why people took chances on other people.

“Oh you know me, Ma,” he said. “I know lots of nice girls.” She swatted him with her dish towel and he didn’t even bother dodging. “Anyway, did you decide where you want to go to dinner for your birthday?”

“You know I don’t care where we go, Dylan,” she said. “Just as long as I get to see you.” Italian Catholic guilt lilted her voice and he rolled his eyes.

I’m. Sitting. Right. Here.

“How about Parkers?”

She waved a hand at him. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think.” She always did this, acted like a nice meal might put him into financial ruin. His shoes cost more than the once a year dinner would run him.

“You know I’m not comfortable in those types of places,” she said.

He ran a hand over his face. Must they play this game every time? “How about The Hills? We went there for Mother’s Day.”

His mom sighed. “The year you were born, your father took me to Mother’s Day brunch at a restaurant on the water. We had champagne and eggs and an ocean view while you sat so quietly in your little baby seat. It’s one of my favorite memories.”

Dylan stopped scrolling through his phone and peered at her, a cold chill prickling the skin on his arms. No way was that a true story. Was she actually losing it now? Did she see that on one of her soaps and imagine it to be her own memory? Or had she switched from twisting the truth to outright lying? He wasn’t sure whether to rage or start googling symptoms of psychosis.

He watched her putter around her sink, wiping up crumbs from the cookie she’d just eaten. She looked normal enough. “Can we not with the trip down memory lane today, Ma?”Or crazy town highway, as it may be.

“The man is half of you, Dylan. You can’t pretend he didn’t exist.”

“Thanks for the reminder. You’re the only half that mattered.”

Something flashed over her face. Gratitude and embarrassment at the same time. “He worked very hard,” she said. “He could be unpleasant, but that was because he wore himself out providing for us.”

Dylan huffed out a sardonic laugh. He’d been letting sleeping dogs lie for too long now. “Ma, that’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Dylan…”

“No, come on. ‘Worked very hard.’ He worked hard at wearing a groove in that bar stool down the road. At being a tyrannical dickhead when he was awake and a lazy, good for nothing bum when he was passed out drunk. And then he took off andyouworked very hard. You did that. Not him. How can you have any sort of kind feelings left for him? He left you with two kids to raise and you still smile and get all heart-eyed when you say his name. For Fuck’s sake.”

Her mouth turned up into a grin like she hadn’t heard a thing he said. What the hell was happening?

She brushed her hands over her pants. “There were a lot of good things too, Dylan. And maybe I smile because I see a lot of those good things in you.”

Pressure exploded behind his eyes and he had to clench his teeth to keep from screaming. How could she say that to him? How could she dig out the deepest-seated fear that he had inside him and stab him with it like a deranged Mommy Dearest while still looking like the tired, prematurely-aged woman who’d given him all of the affection he’d ever received?

If the good parts of his father were in him, then so were the bad parts. It was ludicrous that she didn’t see how that made him seethe.

And panic.

He pushed his chair away from the table and grabbed his coat from the hall.Just go.That’s what his gut always told him in times like these. Leave before you say something awful and make her cry. Then he’d really be like his father.

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