“So you’re okay?” I ask her feeling as if I’m hovering, but I have to know she’s okay.
“I’m better than I thought I would be,” she tells me as she lines the items out on the counter. Two months is how long I’ve been gone, and I’ve seen that a lot can change in days let alone two months.
“So you and Dad…” I trail off and she glances at me.
“He’s still at the house.” She busies herself with the food items, acquainting herself with the cabinets. I don’t know where anything is to direct her.
“And you’re okay with that?”
“It is your dad’s house.” She gives me a half-smile as she lays out a cutting board and begins to peel a potato.
“Mom, have you forgiven him for what he did? Are you guys still together?” I ask her urgently. She stops peeling the potato and turns her full attention toward me.
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“If you wanted to leave him, you can Mom. You don’t have to stay with him because of me.” I mean this with everything in me. I’d hate for my mom to feel obligated to be with him after everything he did—after the lies he told, how much he hurt us.
“Of course not, Chris. You’re a grown man with his own family.” She teases me but I can’t smile back at her.
“You know what I mean Mom,” I tell her and rub the back of neck.
“Whatever ends up happening with your father and I, it’s important to me that you don’t hate him.” She touches my wrists, and I glance at her. “I know what he did was terrible, and selfish, and to some unforgivable…”
To some unforgivable? To anyone it should be unforgivable. He slept with my best friend and got her pregnant. How could anyone just let that go? I run my hand over my head and let out a deep breath. Yesterday I told myself I would have to eventually make things right with my dad but not because I want to forgive him, or because he deserves my forgiveness. The only reason is because I need him—I need as many people on my side as I can get, and I know he hates Cal and he’ll most likely hate Collin. The one thing I can depend on him for is being on my side, but just hearing her say these things makes me question if I can even speak to him without wanting to punch him in the face.
“He’s your father. I don’t want you to punish him for me,” she says adamantly. Her eyes are clouded with sadness that I didn’t see before, and that sadness doesn’t make me want to forgive him any time soon.
“He loves you so much, and there is no excusing what he did, but I know he didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I can forgive him. Every time I think of it, I can’t get him and Lisa out of my head.” She closes her eyes tightly as if I’ve just stabbed her in the chest and I immediately regret what I just said to her.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I will always fault your father for trying to hide what happened and it affecting you the way that it did,” she says quietly.
“It’s not about me. He hurt you, he lied to you!”
“I know that, Chris!” Her voice is tense but doesn’t break. We both let out a cleansing breath.
“Forgiveness isn’t easy.” She lets out another breath. “It’s not a magic moment where all of your anger and pain go away. It’s something you have to work at every day.” I can see her chin quivering, and I feel like an asswipe for bringing this up to her.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I feel a burning sensation in my throat.
“No, it’s okay. We can’t pretend this didn’t happen. We will work through it and try to get past it.” She says this with a smile even though she’s on the verge of tears. She hugs me gently, and I hug her back. A small part of me wishes that Lisa didn’t tell me what happened, but sometimes you think you want out of the dark and when you’re not, the light is bright and burns.
“Hello, Hello.” Lauren calls out as she returns home just as my mom and I are finishing up breakfast.
“Princess!!” My mom squeals as Lauren comes in carrying Caylen. She’s gotten bigger since the last time I’ve seen her. Her smile is big and bright and makes me smile. She has a cookie in her mouth with two teeth she didn’t have the last time I saw her. My mom starts to rush over to them but stops herself realizing I haven’t seen her in months. Lauren approaches me with a smile matching our daughter’s and hands her to me. She comes easily and slaps me with the cookie.
“Hey, Cay.” She offers me her slobbered cookie, and I kiss her on the cheek, spinning her around as she breaks into a fit of giggles.
“Did you miss me, Cay?” I ask her and when she nods, we all laugh. “I missed you so much.” I kiss her on the forehead.
“You guys look so cute. I’ve got to get a picture.” My mom grabs her camera. “Big smiles,” she tells us and it’d be harder for me not to smile. She takes more than a few.
“You get in there, Lauren.” She nudges Lauren toward us. Our eyes meet, and I can’t help but see the joy glittering in them. She leans her head on my shoulder, and we take another.
“Make sure you send me those, Mom.”
“Me too,” Lauren adds.
My mom happily kicks us out of the house after Lauren and Caylen eat breakfast. Lauren and I head to Helen’s office for my appointment. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk from Lauren’s building, and for April in Chicago, it’s in the upper 70’s, which she says is magical weather for the season. The sun is bright and there’s an excited energy in the air of good things to look forward to. The weather brightens my mood and is much needed after last night. It was hard seeing the gallery that Collin purchased for Lauren and though it made me smile for her happiness, it also made me want to vomit at the same time. It’s amazing— the space, the lighting, and not too far from her house. She’s already done the decorating and groundwork and will be opening soon. Her dreams are taking shape right before my eyes and I’ve never felt happier for a person in my life, but at the same time, I honestly resent it.
Even though she didn’t say it, I know how much she loves it and how much she appreciates Collin for giving it to her. He sure made Cal and I look like self-absorbed douchebags. While all we’ve done is drive her crazy, he gave her something she could call her own—a place she could escape to—and she’ll always attribute that to him. Her opening is in three weeks and I can’t help but think that it’ll be him she wishes was there with her.
“How did things go with your mom?” she asks breaking me out of my thoughts.
“I’m glad she’s here.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and adjust them again. Lauren looks over at me curiously. “These almost feel too small, which is weird because they’re my size.” I feel a little embarrassed, and she grins at me amused.
“They’re skinny fit, Chris. They’re supposed to be like that.”
“I should have had my mom bring my pants from home,” I mutter, and she chuckles.
“We can go shopping later, grab you some things that are more your style.” She smiles as pretty as the day I met her. I scratch the back of my head. I hate to seem like a pest or difficult, but the majority of the clothes in her closet aren’t anything I would wear. It was fairly easy to distinguish whose clothes were whose. I know that Cal’s into all things dark—most of his clothes various shades of grey and black—and everything else has a designer label attached. Collin’s clothes are out there—nothing a solid color, not a T-shirt in sight—and material that seems too expensive to wear.