the table.
“I’m probably more nervous than you are.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Otis.” She paused, so I lifted my head. “You’re not the only one who lost a friend, you know.” She reached for the little jam jar of lilacs that she had put on the table. They were drooping already. She tried to arrange them so they stood up better. “There’s a lot we haven’t talked about. You and me, I mean. About what happened. But the bottom line is sometimes relationships don’t weather the storms.”
“Is that what happened with Meg’s parents? Did they break up because of what happened?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“You and Karen really haven’t talked?” I still couldn’t get my head around that. “You guys were so close.”
She kept playing with the lilacs, not meeting my eyes. A breeze floated through the kitchen window, ruffling the leaves of the basil plant on the sill.
“I mean, wouldn’t you reach out to her? After you heard?” I asked.
Anger flashed across my mom’s face. “Don’t judge me, Otis.”
Was I judging her? Maybe I was.
She shoved the lilacs back to the center of the table. “I’ve worked very hard with Dr. Banks to unravel my feelings about the Brandts. But suddenly Jay and Meg are coming back, and . . .” She turned her head away from me. “I’m doing my best, Otis.”
I never entirely understood my mom’s anger at the Brandts. What happened to Mason was an accident. And my mom was there when it happened, too — it’s not as if they were supposed to be in charge of him. Was it just easier to blame the Brandts? It seemed impossible that she’d hold it against them this much, for this long. It didn’t seem reasonable.
“Why’d you invite them over for dinner, then?” I asked. “If you don’t really even want to see them?”
She didn’t answer me. She stood up and got herself a glass of water at the sink, downing the whole thing in one long gulp.
And then it dawned on me. “It wasn’t you,” I said slowly. “It was Dad.”
She set her glass in the sink and turned to me. “It’s not that simple. We talked about it. I know your father wants to be friends with Jay — I know he’s eager to see him. We can’t just hide from this forever. Dr. Banks thought this might be good for everyone. He made me realize that Jay might be as nervous about seeing us as we are about seeing him.” She leaned back against the counter and blew out a long breath. “And frankly I can’t imagine what this must be like for Meg, coming back here.” She crossed her arms. She had some crusted flour on one of her wrists. “I’m not sure you realize how hard this must be for her.”
I knew my mom thought I was socially awkward and emotionally fragile, but I didn’t know she thought I was a complete idiot. I stared at her. “Really, Mom? It’ll be hard for Meg? You think?” I got up and went over to the oven, where I clicked on the oven light and stared into the window at the pie, which was still raw. The crust looked white and waxy under the oven bulb.
I heard the slap of her bare feet on the tile floor as she moved toward me. “It wasn’t just . . . that it happened,” she said softly, avoiding saying the actual words
that Mason died
.
But I knew what she meant. It was that he died in Meg’s house.
I turned to face her. “Yeah, I get it. I understand why they would have wanted to move. To another house. I get that. But why did they have to move back to California? Didn’t anyone get that we —” I broke off, torn between wanting to be understood and wanting to spare myself this awkward intimacy with my mother. “That we needed each other?”
My mom turned her gaze to the floor, chewing on her lower lip. “Otis . . .”
“Don’t you think they could have found a way to stay?” I prodded. “I mean, God! It was a terrible time for them to leave. And in the middle of the school year? Didn’t her dad have any say in a
“I’m probably more nervous than you are.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Otis.” She paused, so I lifted my head. “You’re not the only one who lost a friend, you know.” She reached for the little jam jar of lilacs that she had put on the table. They were drooping already. She tried to arrange them so they stood up better. “There’s a lot we haven’t talked about. You and me, I mean. About what happened. But the bottom line is sometimes relationships don’t weather the storms.”
“Is that what happened with Meg’s parents? Did they break up because of what happened?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“You and Karen really haven’t talked?” I still couldn’t get my head around that. “You guys were so close.”
She kept playing with the lilacs, not meeting my eyes. A breeze floated through the kitchen window, ruffling the leaves of the basil plant on the sill.
“I mean, wouldn’t you reach out to her? After you heard?” I asked.
Anger flashed across my mom’s face. “Don’t judge me, Otis.”
Was I judging her? Maybe I was.
She shoved the lilacs back to the center of the table. “I’ve worked very hard with Dr. Banks to unravel my feelings about the Brandts. But suddenly Jay and Meg are coming back, and . . .” She turned her head away from me. “I’m doing my best, Otis.”
I never entirely understood my mom’s anger at the Brandts. What happened to Mason was an accident. And my mom was there when it happened, too — it’s not as if they were supposed to be in charge of him. Was it just easier to blame the Brandts? It seemed impossible that she’d hold it against them this much, for this long. It didn’t seem reasonable.
“Why’d you invite them over for dinner, then?” I asked. “If you don’t really even want to see them?”
She didn’t answer me. She stood up and got herself a glass of water at the sink, downing the whole thing in one long gulp.
And then it dawned on me. “It wasn’t you,” I said slowly. “It was Dad.”
She set her glass in the sink and turned to me. “It’s not that simple. We talked about it. I know your father wants to be friends with Jay — I know he’s eager to see him. We can’t just hide from this forever. Dr. Banks thought this might be good for everyone. He made me realize that Jay might be as nervous about seeing us as we are about seeing him.” She leaned back against the counter and blew out a long breath. “And frankly I can’t imagine what this must be like for Meg, coming back here.” She crossed her arms. She had some crusted flour on one of her wrists. “I’m not sure you realize how hard this must be for her.”
I knew my mom thought I was socially awkward and emotionally fragile, but I didn’t know she thought I was a complete idiot. I stared at her. “Really, Mom? It’ll be hard for Meg? You think?” I got up and went over to the oven, where I clicked on the oven light and stared into the window at the pie, which was still raw. The crust looked white and waxy under the oven bulb.
I heard the slap of her bare feet on the tile floor as she moved toward me. “It wasn’t just . . . that it happened,” she said softly, avoiding saying the actual words
that Mason died
.
But I knew what she meant. It was that he died in Meg’s house.
I turned to face her. “Yeah, I get it. I understand why they would have wanted to move. To another house. I get that. But why did they have to move back to California? Didn’t anyone get that we —” I broke off, torn between wanting to be understood and wanting to spare myself this awkward intimacy with my mother. “That we needed each other?”
My mom turned her gaze to the floor, chewing on her lower lip. “Otis . . .”
“Don’t you think they could have found a way to stay?” I prodded. “I mean, God! It was a terrible time for them to leave. And in the middle of the school year? Didn’t her dad have any say in a
Similar Books
