Page 14 of Until Now
Dominique
“All right, let’s go over my instructions. You arenotto let anyone in the house that hasn’t been cleared by me. When Hunter gets here, make sure...”
“Woman!! We’ve gone over this already!”
My expression changes in an instant. If that boy thinks he can talk to me like that, he’s about to be set straight. I lock eyes with my son and send him a clear message.
“If you call me woman one more time, there will be consequences.”
“You liked it when John Wayne said it to that red-haired lady in that movie.”
“You’re not John Wayne, and this isn’t a movie.”
I don’t have to actually name the consequences because Bing knows I don’t randomly threaten punishment. I am a woman of my word. The cell phone will go immediately. Wisely, he quiets.
“As I was saying, I’m letting you have your band practice here while I’m gone. That does not mean you can act the fool or behave in any way that youknowI would disapprove of. Got it?”
“I got it,” he says, emptying an entire bag of chips into the big bowl.
“And I want you to respond when I send a text or call. Don’t make me cut my picnic short just to make sure you’re not setting the house on fire.”
He puts the chips down and does the thing. Ever since Bing was a little boy, he has known how to make his mother melt. It works every time. Opening his arms wide, he says, “I think you need a hug, Mom.”
It started as an authentic offer from a five-year-old son to his mom. The first time was because a movie I was watching made me cry. Then at eight or so, it became a deeper act of compassion if he’d catch me crying about his father. Now it’s a new thing. The last few times he did it was to get out of something. He’s tried using it to manipulate me, but we both laugh when he does it. Nobody is unaware that change is happening on a daily. Finding the humor in it has been helpful for both of us.
“I think I do need a hug, Bing.”
A smile accompanies my words. He wraps his arms around me, and suddenly I’m faced with how tall he is. Another few inches and we’ll be the same height. A lump rises in my throat. Pretty soon, my tight control over him will start to wane. If I’m honest with myself, it’s already begun.
But Bing’s a good boy. Boy. I sense his independence rising, and even though every parent knows it must happen, I’m sad. It’s obvious that once it comes to full blossom, the child will be gone. Being a mother has been the hardest, most beautiful journey of my life. I don’t want it to change. My throat tightens with the thought.Appreciate these last days.It has repeated in my mind over the last year.
“You look pretty, Mom.”
Ohhh. Bing’s words brighten the day.
“Thank you, son. I’m really happy you aren’t upset that I’m going on a real date.”
He looks me in the eye. “You’ve been alone for a long time. I don’t mind.”
Out of the mouths of babes.
“But it’s very mature of you. Although technically, you have seen me go on lots of dates with Ken.
He shoots me a knowing look. “You never acted with Ken like you’re acting around Maxen.”
“What? I don’t know why you’re saying that,” I fib.
“Because it’s true. You don’t like Ken in that way. Right?”
I just smile my agreement. I’ve got one smart child.
“Which purse do you like better?” I say, ignoring the question.
I hold up the shoulder strap next to the updated fanny pack. His face contorts.
“I don’t know! Whatever.”
Accepting his take on things, I make an executive decision and chose the fanny pack. The doorbell rings, my stomach drops, and Bing moves to answer. Swinging it open, we are greeted by Maxen and Hunter. This kid rarely wears a smile, but we get half of one.
