Page 58 of Afternoon Delight
“Bye.” I waved. Then I sighed. Big and heavy.
“I thought the only thing that could feel as bad as losing your father would be losing you or one of your children. I can’t imagine how Dale feels, though, losing himself.” Mom was staring at the wall as though looking through it to where the men had moved into their own shop.
“I can,” I blurted, then immediately regretted it.
Mom shook off her introspection and looked at me to continue.
“That’s why I quit my job.” I crossed my arms, not wanting to be defensive, but I was. “I feel like I was lost for twenty years. Now I want to figure out who I am when I’m not a wife and mother. I want to find me. And I know you feel lost, too. That you’re trying to figure out who you are without Dad.”
“I know exactly who I am,” she dismissed. “And I agree that helping Georgia was the right thing to do. But throwing away your career is throwing away something valuable.” Her voice edged toward impatience. “You’re not replacing it with anything.”
“I’m making room for something else. Something better.”
“Now you sound like Amber. She’s one of those hippies who comes into the thrift store, always telling me how she rakes the sand in her aquarium, and rearranges her crystals to fix her aura.”
“Mom,” I kept my voice as gentle as I could. “If raking crystals makes Amber happy, and that’s who she is, who cares?”
“She can do whatever floats her boat, but you’re not broken, Meg. You’re fine.”
“I don’t want to be fine,” I snapped, temperature spiking. “I want to be fabulous.”
Mom stiffened. I made myself take a breath.
“Look, I know Aunt Linda made you feel guilty about your affair with Dad, that you’ve always felt we have to live a certain way to make up for that. But guess what? Dad was the one who cheated. With his secretary. I really hope it was consensual, but quit carrying all the blame for his affair. Tell Aunt Linda to fuck off.”
Her expression shifted from shock to consternation to mild irritation.
“I can’t, can I? She gives your children money for school.” She picked up her smart blue raincoat and slid her arms into it, letting me know this conversation was over.
“She does. And I appreciate it. So maybe just say it in your head.” I chewed my lip, wondering if I’d gone too far.
“It was consensual, for the record.” She belted her coat, avoiding my gaze. “I was naïve about what I was getting into, but your father gave me—us—a very good life. I can’t say I ever felt lost until he was gone.”
Oh, Mom. I wanted to hug her, but she was already digging through her purse, pulling out her keys, even though her car only needed the fob nearby to unlock the door.
“For what it’s worth, I know who you are, Meg. You’ve always liked to help people, so this...” She waved at the store. “In many ways, this is exactly who you are. That goes for Zak, too.” Her gaze held mine.
How could I be nudging forty and still feel so self-conscious when my mother saw right through me?
“He’s not the man-child Joel is, but I can see how you’re trying to prop him up.”
He’s a good person, I wanted to say. He needs support.
Did I want him to need me, though? I kind of did.
Mom was right. That was a slippery slope if my goal was to make myself the priority.
A gust of wind slapped rain against the window.
“I think we’re both fixers, Mom. That’s why I’m trying to move you to Toronto, so you won’t be so lonely here. We’re trying to fix each other’s lives so we don’t have to figure out our own.”
“I have been lonely at times,” she admitted with a slow nod. “And I’ll admit that as much as this has been outside my comfort zone, helping in here has been good for me.”
“Yeah? Does that mean you’ll let me buy you a toy? Have fun, Mom. Get wet,” I quoted from her sign.
“I was thinking of starting with joining a mixed foursome when golf reopens. Which, for your information, can be a gateway to polyamory.” Her gaze clashed into mine, wide with amused forewarning. “I’ve seen it happen.”
“Okay. Well. Make good choices. Use condoms.”
