Page 83 of The Boyfriend List
“I’m sure he’d appreciate it,” I say. “It’s just been hard on him, since he’s the youngest. I think he’s the closest to his parents of all his siblings, so he feels… responsible in a way, for keeping them all together. For keeping the peace.”
"Family is complicated," she says as she rubs my back. "We all do the best we can with our family, but you can't save them. You have to know when to let go and trust that God will work everything out."
I absorb her words like a parched plant opens up to the rain. "You’re right."
"Let's go back to dinner, okay?" She hands me a pitcher of calamansi juice so we can look like we've been busying ourselves in the kitchen instead of having a heart-to-heart.
I bring out the calamansi juice, and soak up all the laughter and warmth of being around my family and friends.
Chapter Thirty: London
Why am I such an idiot?
The question echoes through my mind as I do another rep, mindful of my sprained wrist when I press the fifty-pound weight.
I should have gone with Gloria to the Philippines. I should be meeting her parents right now, my own family heartbreak be damned. Should be on the beach with her, seeing the beautiful ocean views El Nido is known for. Should be getting ready to see SB19 with her, singing along to all the words and doing bad dance moves together.
Not putting myself through physical and emotional hell. I drop the dumbbell back onto the rack with a heavy clang that reverberates through the almost-empty gym. It’s a weekend, and Halloween is tomorrow night, so no wonder the place is deserted.
After hopping in the shower, I towel off and drive back towards my apartment. Halfway there, though, I change my mind and head toward the Young residence instead.
Muscle memory or masochism pulls me into the driveway. When I spy my mom outside watering her fluffy blue hydrangeas, I freeze.
What would I say to her? I can’t claim a grievance against my parents—it wasn’tmywedding that they ruined. But as I stare at the hydrangeas, mymind spins, churning up a memory of what Raina told me. About Gloria and my mom’s conversation when I brought her home for Thanksgiving.
Even if I can’t be with Gloria, I can at least stand up for her and try to make things right.
“London!” My mom’s eyes widen when she sees me. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”
“Me, neither,” I admit. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Can I help you with that?”
I’ve never had a green thumb, but the years of filial piety bred into me make me offer.
She shakes her head, covered by a broad-brimmed sunhat.“I’m done. I wanted to get all the yard work finished before it gets too hot out.”
Are we really not going to mention that the last time I saw her, she and Dad were going for one another’s jugulars? Or how I ran off and got drunk, like a coward?
We go inside and she pours me a glass of water. “What did you want to talk about?”
“How you treated Gloria.” The words rush out of my mouth. My pulse quickens, elevated by the same old fear of hurting her feelings—of upending the boat, by adding to the tumultuous waves battering it.
Her brows furrow. “I don’t know what you mean. We barely spoke at the wedding.”
“Not at Sav’s wedding. At Thanksgiving. When I first brought her home in college.” I fiddle with the water glass, my fingers damp with the condensation beading on its surface.
“That was a long time ago. I don’t remember what I said to her.” My mother fidgets with the tie on her hat, pulling on the cord to loosen it. She avoids my gaze like it’s a laser pointer in a spy movie.
“She told me. She said that you kept telling her about… about how much you love me.” My breath catches in my throat, as I wonder if I really do sound foolish. Wouldn’t any mother brag about their son to potential girlfriends?
"I don’t see how that’s an issue.”
“You told her she’d never be good enough for me. That you never wanted me to get married and move away because it would take me away from you,” I snap, the tension whirling in my chest finally releasing like a dam breaking.
Her face is white. “I-I never said that. Maybe I told her... maybe she misunderstood me.”
“Gloria is the most intelligent woman I know.” I drain the water and fold my arms across my chest. “She wouldn’t misinterpret something like that. Or lie to me.”
“I couldn’t lose you!” she shouts. “You were already off to college. Soon you were going to leave me, too. I already lost all my other children. They don’t see how your father treats me, or they don’t care. They already have their own families.
