Page 66 of Tutoring the Bad Boy
She laughs. “Agreed.”
Things between my mom and I have slowly felt different over the last few days. I can’t explain it. On one hand, I love it, but it’s like there’s this undercurrent of weird. Like, all is not what it seems. For the umpteenth time, I shrug off the feeling. I told myself I’d keep an open mind, and I am.
For a while, we sit in the tub and soak. My mind wanders from one thought to another like it’s running a race. Finally, I have to just count to a hundred to get my head settled and let the tension really go.
Then I feel my mom’s eyes boring into me, and I look at her. “What?”
“I don’t think I’ve realized just how much you’ve grown.” Her lips pinch together. “I still remember the baby I snuggled close to my chest. This tiny little thing that the universe gave to me, trusted me with.”
What’s there to say? She hasn’t stopped treating me like a baby. Maybe the universe needs to have a heart-to-heart with my mom and have her lighten up on the Hilter she’s channeling.
As if she’s read my thoughts, her head tilts and she smiles. “But, you’re not that baby anymore.” Her chest rises as she takes in a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not treating you like the young woman you are. I guess I’ve been so focused on being a good parent that maybe I lost sight of what that is. I’ve been terrible.”
“No, you haven’t.” Okay, yes, she has, but she’s apologizing. I won’t kick her when she’s trying. “You’ve just…you haven’t been listening to me. That’s all I’ve wanted.”
Another deep breath. “Okay, I’m here and I’m listening. Talk to me.”
She doesn’t mean to sound like she’s giving a basic command to a dog, but it feels a little like that. Again, she’s willing, and that’s more than I’ve had in a long time.
“Really, Ginny, I want to hear you.”
“I’ve felt suffocated. You have your thumb on me all the time, like you don’t trust that I can make any sort of judgment call without you standing right there. You’re so strict, and I could understand it if I wasn’t a good student or something, but you act like if you give me an inch I’ll mess up my entire future. Like I’ve got no stake in anything.”
She doesn’t reply, just nods.
“You treat me like I’m a prisoner in my own house.” I sag a little. “Mom, your fake turkey is the most disgusting thing on the planet. I think I’d rather eat roaches than that.”
At first I think she’s going to jump all over me, then she just busts out laughing. “It’s awful.”
My mouth drops open. “Then why do you keep making it?”
Shrugging, she says, “All the books I read said that the best way to get a child to eat healthy was to exhibit those habits. Then there was that continuing education seminar I went to and they had a nutritionist. He said all this stuff about tofu and how great it is for your body.”
After that, it’s like the floodgates open. We talk long into the night about everything from how I’m feeling about college to what I think I might want to do with my life. I’ve applied to several different schools, and instead of being upset, she’s ecstatic. The rest of the night we talk about the pros and cons of each school.
By the time I doze off, we’ve had the best conversation we’ve had in years. I can’t even remember the last time I felt any hope of having the mom I remember as a kid and not this overbearing principal/teacher she’s turned into.
The next morning, as we’re having breakfast in the room at our hotel, my mom takes a sip of her orange juice, and as she scoops up a spoonful of cereal, she asks, “I almost hate to ask because I don’t want you to think I’m prying, but how’s Kaleb doing?”
For a second, I’m frozen. What do I say?
“I know I’ve been hard on you and him, but I do want him to succeed as a student.”
I see her lips moving, hear the words, but just how much do I say? She hasn’t confessed to making the deal with Kaleb. Not that she knows I know, but if she was really trying to make things better, wouldn’t that be the first thing she righted?
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” She sighs softly. “I haven’t exactly given you any reason to trust me.”
No, she hasn’t. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say just that, but I hold it back. “I’m tutoring him. I mean, I care about him from that standpoint. He’s worked so hard, and I want to see him reach his dreams.” I set my elbow on the table and my head in my hand. “He means the world to me. As a friend,” I quickly add. “Just a friend. His mom leaving like she did hurt him. Plus, he wants to be an architectural engineer. That’s a lot of work, which leaves little time for a relationship.”
I’ve said more than I planned, but nothing I said is a lie. All I did was leave out the part where I’m falling in love with him. To get that information out of me, my mom will have to come clean first. That’s a gargantuan elephant that can’t be ignored.
Before she can respond, my phone rings. I smile at the caller ID as I put it to my ear. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” Kaleb says. “I don’t want to butt in on time with your mom, but I couldn’t not call.”
The sound of his voice sends my pulse skyrocketing. We’ve texted a little here and there, but his voice is so much better than just words on a screen. I hadn’t realized how much comfort his voice gives me.
“I’m glad you did.” I take my phone from my ear and cover the receiver with my hand. “I’m going to take this outside.”
