I’m Finishing Homework

when Mom

and Claude the Interloper

come home

chatting and wired

like always

after a concert.

I hear them coming up the stairs

then Mom stops by my door

sticks her head in.

            “Courtney go down okay?”

            The Interloper continues

            on to their room.

“Fine,” I say.

She steps through the door,

elegance in long black dress,

heels, and strand of pearls.

Completely at odds

with the mayhem

of my room.

My teenage boy’s room.

Her nose wrinkles.

She looks around.

          “This is a disaster.”

And I have to agree

even for me it’s

pretty bad.

“I’ll clean it tomorrow.”

But she advances,

picking up empty water bottles,

and the closer she gets

the more uncomfortable I am

like she’s going to find

something she shouldn’t.

There’s a plate from the kitchen

on my bed;

she picks it up.

            “Brendan…”

“I’ll take care of it tomorrow!”

My shoulders tense,

practically touching

my ears.

            “Whoa! Don’t you use

            that tone with me.”

“I’m sorry! I said I’ll take care of it.”

Still sitting,

I lean over to scoop up

the mess from my backpack,

stack papers.

A little to my left,

notice that a

smallish piece of paper

with purple ink

sits on top.

That girl’s number.

I put my elbow

over it

like I’m turning

to look

at Mom.

“I just

really need to

get back to work,”

I mutter,

tapping a pen

on my open

Econ book.

Why won’t she leave?

Her eyebrows rise,

head tilts,

considering me for a minute.

            “Is everything okay?”

            she finally asks.

And I get the feeling

she thinks I’m hiding something.

Knows I’m hiding something.

It’s almost 11 p.m.

We’re going to have

a heart-to-heart now?

“Just fine,” I say.

Arms full,

she stands there

looking at me a minute,

then stoops to kiss

the top of my head.

          “Let me know if

          you want to talk.”

She finally leaves

and I move my elbow

off the

purple

sparkly

inked

paper

I had

all but forgotten.