My mother caught me by both hands and tugged me around the curve of the yurt. She waited until my father gallantly offered to show Corsica the outdoor kitchen before she swatted me on the arm hard.
"Over two years. I haven't seen you in over two years and you bring some uppity, social climber to use as a human shield?"
"Me?" I scoffed. "You've been avoiding me for two years so I wouldn't interfere. And, what in the hell is going on with you and Xavier?"
Alice crossed her brightly colored sleeves. "He lets you call him that now, doesn't he. Xavier's changed. Hasn't he talked to you yet?"
"No." I ground my teeth to keep from yelling. "No one's talking to me, most of all you. How could you not tell me you were sick?"
My mother waved away my question. "I know it hurts, darling, and for that, I'm sorry. But I didn't want you to worry and, you were right, I didn't want you to interfere. I still don't want you to interfere."
The pain thickened my voice. "But you went to him, instead."
Her soft hands swept over my cheeks. "He's always been my best counterbalance."
I squeezed her hands in mine and then dropped them. It was impossible, but I felt exactly like I had all those years ago, torn between two people and caught in a struggle I did not understand.
"Oh, my sweet boy. You need to talk to your father. And, you need to get rid of that girl. I sense lies," Alice said. She blinked and looked deep into my eyes. "You're lying. She doesn't know who you are."
"I'm not a Templeton."
"Are you a Brightwater?" my mother asked. She smiled and shook her head. "I see it, what you think of me. But who is really the reckless and unattached one?"
"God, I'm glad I brought a human shield."
My mother's cherry-red lips curled in a smile. "Yes, me too. I can't wait to see how she holds up."
I caught her sleeves. "Please, play nice."
"I could say the same to you. Why won't you at least listen to your father?"
My chest burned with frustration. "I don't want to hear a single thing that comes out of his mouth."
Alice's eyes pleaded with me. "Alcoholism is a disease, Penn. Your father never meant to hurt us."
"How can you say that? Here you are, the epitome of an independent woman. You teach people to trust themselves and to not let others hold them down."
"And I never would have found my truth if it wasn't for your father's mistakes."
I shook my head, feeling sick. "Those weren't mistakes. He was blind drunk, but he still managed to hit you. How can you just forget that?"
My mother gripped my arms. "I didn't forget, Penn. I forgave. I forgave your father, and it's time you do the same."
I reeled back from her. "This is insane. Next, you're going to tell me you love him."
"I do. I always did and I always will."
"I'm going to be sick," I said.
"Grow up, Penn." My mother's strong voice stopped me. "Don't you know by now that people lose control? People make mistakes and they hurt the people they love."
"Then it wasn't really love," I fought back.
Alice laughed, free and open. "You wouldn't know love if it bit you in the ass. I mean, have you honestly asked yourself why you dragged that stuffy, little blonde along? People do strange things when they are in love."
My mother was impossible to fight with. She flowed from intensity to humor and from obtuse claims to sharp observations at a dizzying pace. It was too much.
I held up both hands in defeat. "We're just here to have dinner and see how you are."
"Nonsense. You're just here to badger me about my treatments." Alice wrapped her arms around me and walked me back to the front of her yurt. "And I love you for it."
"So you'll forgive me for interfering?"
Alice watched my father and Corsica pick their way through the grass back to us. "Only if you listen to your father. He's trying to make amends."
"Without his checkbook?" I snorted.
Her bare foot crushed the arch of mine. "Stop being so stubborn. You're just like him. I can't believe he hasn't told you that he's in A.A."
"What?"
Alice breezed away from me and called out. "Lovely stew simmering, isn't it? We'll have it for dinner with some nice, fresh bread."
"Not unless you follow it up with a ten day course of antibiotics," my father said. "I know there's a resort nearby that has a five-star restaurant."
My mother flapped down the hill like a bird to argue with my father. I was mesmerized by their amused smiles as they fired clever reasons and defenses at each other. I wanted to resist it, but there was something so comforting in watching my parents get along with each other.
Corsica stepped aside and gave my mother a nervous glance. Then, she stumbled in her black heeled sandals as she climbed up the slope to join me. "I overheard there's a bus depot not far from here. I'll fake some roommate emergency."
I shook my head and laughed. "No one's going to buy that."
"So, why are they buying that we're a couple?" Corsica pinned me with a desperate look.
I didn't have an answer for her, and, even if I did, it would have been lost in the blue sky of her gaze. I held out my hand and chuckled when she slipped into my arms.
"Thanks for making me look good," I said.
"Are you sure it's working?" Corsica batted my overgrown beard away from her cheek. "I think your mother hates me."
"I told you, Alice has a way of seeing right through people."
"Yeah, well, it doesn't take the power of special sight for me to see I'm not welcome here." Corsica straightened her shoulders under my arm. "Besides, it looks like Mr. Templeton will be a good enough distraction. What's the story with those two, anyway?"
"A long one," I said.
"Let me guess. They were high school sweethearts, but you still don't like seeing anyone flirting with your mother."
I nudged Corsica with my hip. "I dare you to come to dinner and ask my mother what she was like in high school."
"See? I knew she didn't want me here. You're just teasing me."
I brushed back her hair and leaned down. My breath tickled the softly scented skin along her neck. "No. This is teasing you."
Corsica shivered as I pressed a light kiss on her fragrant skin. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know. I like you."
She shrugged then tipped her chin up. "Sorry. Doesn't matter if you like me. You came to see your mother, and she most certainly does not like me."
I glanced up to see my mother watching us. Alice hid her smile when I caught her and then tossed her wild, dark hair. "I suppose our little princess up there needs a place with linen napkins, otherwise she'll faint."
"Perhaps somewhere with a piano," my father added.
Alice's ears perked up. "Is she musical? Well, then, that settles it. We're staying here. There are no better acoustics anywhere than the canyon."
"What is she saying? What's happening?" Corsica clung to my side.