Page 60 of Some Sort of Love (Happy Crazy Love 3)
But she didn’t really knock. She just came right in.
“Mom. Hi. What are you doing here?”
“I was doing some shopping down this way and thought I’d stop by.” She tucked her silvery bob behind one ear. She’d gone completely gray in her thirties, so any day now I was expecting to wake up with a beard and head full of white, but so far it was only a few strays here and there.
“Come in.” I gestured to the chairs in front of my desk. Since leaving my uncle’s firm, I worked for myself and rented office space in a building downtown. Working from home sounds good in theory, but I did it for a while and found it hard to separate home from work—I found it much easier to get shit done in both environments when I wasn’t tempted to avoid work in one by taking up a chore in the other.
“I was wondering if you had time for lunch, actually.” She raised her eyebrows at me hopefully.
I frowned at the work on my desk and rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know, Mom. I have a lot of things to get done before a meeting at Scotty’s school at two.”
“Oh? About the IEP?”
“Yes. Among other things.”
“Well, let’s grab a quick bite and you can fill me in. I like to know how things are going with him, and we haven’t had a chance to talk much. You’re so busy these days.”
Fucking Mom Guilt. Nothing worse. “I know, Mom. Sorry, I just don’t have a lot of spare time.”
“I’m not blaming you, darling,” she said breezily. “I merely want to know how you’re doing.”
I fought off the groan building in the pit of my stomach and turned it into more of an exasperated sigh. “I wish you would have called first. I could have planned for lunch with you.”
“You’d have turned me down. I know you.” She arched a brow at me, then smiled cajolingly. “Come on. Humor your old ma. I won’t be around forever, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. She might have just turned sixty, but she was as healthy and active as someone half her age. “OK. A quick bite.”
She beamed. “Thank you. Shall we go now or do you need to finish something up?”
“We can go now.” I closed my laptop. “I’ll pick up my dry-cleaning too.”
“I could have done that for you today.” She was saying it to be nice, but somehow I felt it as another scolding—like I should have told her I had dry-cleaning to be picked up.
“I didn’t know you were coming down, Mom. Remember?”
“I know, but if you need help with things at home, I’m happy to do it,” she said, leading the way out of my office, through the little lobby area I shared with an accountant and an attorney. “The drive isn’t that far, and I’d love to see you and Scotty more often.”
I shut my office door and followed her out, taking de
ep breaths. She’s not saying this to criticize you. She’s simply offering to help. “I know, and I appreciate it. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”
We walked to a nearby diner and were seated at a small table near the window. After looking at the menu, I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich and she ordered a Reuben. After my iced tea and her Diet Coke arrived, she put her elbows on the table and propped her chin in her hands.
“So tell me what’s new. How is Scotty? At the birthday dinner, he seemed very preoccupied with his electronics.”
“His iPad. He earns breaks with it when he does what he’s supposed to.”
“Don’t you think he should do what he’s supposed to just because? Won’t he always expect a reward for behaving properly if you keep doing this?”
I stiffened. “If this lunch is about criticizing my parenting, it’s over.”
She held up her hands. “It’s not, it’s not. I’m sorry. You know best.”
“I do.”
“I only worry that as he gets older, it will get tougher on him. The school and his peers aren’t going to treat him like a baby.”
“I don’t treat him like a baby, Mom. I treat him like he needs to be treated to get through his day and feel good about himself.”
