Page 85 of The Way I Am Now
“Out of town?” she repeats, like that’s the most absurd thing she ever heard. “In the middle of the semester?” She shakes her head. “Joshua.”
“No, don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m naive or getting taken advantage of or being lied to or something. I’m not. It’s not like that.”
“Well, tell me.” She crosses her arms and looks at my dad like he should be getting upset along with her. “What’s it like, then?”
I glance up at my dad, sitting on the ottoman next to the couch. He gives me a half smile, a nod, sort of squints, drawing his eyebrows together, tilts his head in Mom’s direction.
“What’s this?” Mom asks, not missing anything. “What’s going on with you two?”
Dad sighs. “Just tell her, Joshie.”
“Dear God, tell me what?” she says, clutching the collar of her shirt. “She’s not pregnant, please tell me she’s not preg—”
“No!”
“Thank you thank you thank you,” she whispers into her clasped hands.
“Why is that the first thing you guys jump to? Do you really think I’m that irresponsible?”
“No,” Mom says. “But shit happens, Josh. You can be careful ninety-nine percent of the time and all it takes is one—”
“Oh my God, please,” I say, raising my voice. “All the safe sex talks are scarred into my memory for life, I assure you. Can we drop this now?”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on,” Mom insists. “I don’t like this. I have to be honest. I don’t like this girl for you, Josh, I just—”
“Fine,” I relent. “Just please stop saying that.”
So I tell them everything. And by the time I finish, they’re sitting on either side of me on the couch, Mom’s arm around me, Dad’s hand resting on my knee. When I look up at Mom, she has tears running down her face.
“Sorry,” she says, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “That’s a lot, Josh.”
“I know,” I agree, “it’s been a lot for her.”
“Well, for you too,” Mom says.
“No, come on.” I shake my head. “I’m not comparing anything I might be feeling to what she’s going through.”
Dad speaks up. “No one’s saying you should compare anything, but just acknowledge, all right, this is not an easy thing to be dealing with in any relationship.”
I nod. I know he’s right. But I don’t know how to explain that when we’re together it doesn’t feel hard. When we’re together it feels like we can handle it—could handle anything.
We order food and stay in. D and Parker join us. Parker shows my parents the video from the hibachi restaurant of everyone singing “Happy Birthday.” Eden kissing me at the end, with total abandon. Everyone cheering.
“Let me see that.” Mom takes the phone and watches the video two more times, smiling by the end of it. “You look happy, Josh,” she says quietly.
They leave to go to their motel at eleven. Outside, at the car, Dad says, “Come on, group hug.” And they both wrap me in a giant hug. A different day I might’ve said something stupid likearen’t I getting a little old for this, but not today. Today I just let them and feel grateful.
“You need more rest.” Mom jabs her finger into my chest. “Hear me?”
“Yes.”
“We love you,” Dad says.
“Love you guys too.”
