Page 8 of Ripped & Shipped
Silence greets me.
I walk toward the sunroom at the back of the house. It’s not too hot out yet, still early summer. In a few weeks we won’t want to be outdoors in the middle of the day. For the time being, Mom can enjoy the afternoon breeze and the backyard wildlife from the comfort of her rocking chair here on the screened-in porch.
Mom always loved her garden and anything to do with nature. Dad sets her up here during the mornings before he goes into the office.
“Hey, Mom. How’s it going on this beautiful sunny Ohio day?”
She smiles a wan smile in my direction. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s better than no smile.
“I just went into Dad’s office before lunch. Have you eaten?”
She shakes her head.
“Let’s get food. I haven’t eaten either. Maybe we could have a sandwich out here together. I promise to add lettuce just to make you happy.”
Her eyes warm a little at my joke. I never wanted lettuce on my sandwiches as a kid. As soon as I got to school, I’d pluck the offending leaf off the otherwise perfect lunch, toss it in a hallway trash can, and repack my lunch bag. That was before Bridgette turned me in. As soon as I got home from school that day, Mom lectured me about vitamins, minerals, and roughage.
Mom’s reprimand worked. I never let my sister see me pull the lettuce off my sandwich again. I made sure I went into the boys’ restroom to do my disassembly and reassembly in private from then on.
I leave Mom in the sunroom and make us some sandwiches. We eat in silence. I tell her about Dad’s attempt to convince me to join the accounting firm again. I’m not qualified. My background is in technology and personnel management. In the military, I learned coding and all sorts of skills related to fraud detection and espionage.
I’m equipped to lead people, or to use a computer to track someone. I’m not a numbers guy. Dad merely wants me to be engaged in his business.
I appreciate Dad’s heart, but he’s not thinking straight. In business, you need someone suited to the job. As flighty as Meg is, she’s a surprisingly good accountant. And Dad doesn’t need another accountant.
“Your dad just wants you around,” Mom says quietly. “He missed you while you were away.”
“Then we should grab a bite together, or go on a bike ride. He doesn’t need to hire me. I’ve got other work, Mom.”
She nods. I haven’t told my family everything I do in my job, but they know I make a living. I don’t want Mom to worry about me more than she already does.
A chickadee chirps in the yard and Mom turns her head in the direction of the sound.
“I love those birds,” she says.
“Me too. I understand the midday bird calls are the women wooing the guys.”
Mom laughs lightly. “Girls always have to do the heavy lifting. It’s not very fair, is it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Mom pauses. She looks out in the yard where another bird is answering the first call.
Her voice is soft when she answers me. “We have to get all dolled up. It’s up to us to get your attention. Then we have to worry you’ll be distracted by the next pretty bird you see.”
I hum, a smile spreading across my face. Mom doesn’t usually talk this much. She might have been having a harder day this morning, but she’s in good spirits now—even lightly joking about birds and women.
“So, us guys have it easy?”
“Maybe not. But Chris?”
“Yeah, Mom?”
“Don’t make it hard on the women who want your attention. You’re thirty-one. It’s not good for you to be alone.”
“I’m okay. I have my friends. If I want to date, I go out with someone.”
Mom looks out across the back yard. I think she’s done, but then after a few minutes, she says, “It’s not the same, Chris. Having that one person is different. When you find the one, it’s everything.”
