I feel like such a creepy stalker walking down to Will and Shayla’s without having first given a heads-up. But I had to leave Marco’s before Mom got dressed and came out of the bedroom. Can you imagine if I had to face her right now? There’s a ten out of ten chance I’d start the biggest fight of our lives. And I can’t be fighting with her — not now. We’re all either of us has left. I’m furious with her, but I can’t lose her.
I look out at the lake — calm and blue and sparkling — as I trudge my way down the damp ground to Shayla’s yard. There’s a pair of flat red boards meandering around in the water. Shayla and Robbie, kayaking again. Shit. I hope Will is still at the house. I hope he didn’t give up on me and go back home to the city or something. Even though I couldn’t blame him if he did.
“Joey!” Mom yells. I turn around and see her arms waving at me from Marco’s back porch. “Wait!”
Dammit. I told him not to say anything.
“What?” I motion toward the house. “I’m just going to hang out next door.”
Mom runs down to me — re-muddying her freshly showered bare feet — as I try not to scream and/or cry and/or both.
“I’m sorry.” She’s now standing directly in front of me, clutching my forearms. I’m slightly lower on the hill than she is, so we’re the same height. For the first time since probably fifth grade. “Listen. I never lied to you, okay? It was complicated and —”
“You most definitely lied to me,” I correct her. “And there’s nothing complicated about not cheating on someone. What did you say Sunday after I found out about Luke? It’s not the ‘Riddle of the fuckin’ Sphinx’? Yeah. That.” Her eyes are pleading for me to stop. So of course I keep going. “He was going to propose to you! How could you keep that from me all this time?”
“Joey, please —”
“He bought a ring, Mom. It was literally in his pocket when he found you and Leo at the town house.” My voice shakes as I realize that I don’t even need to use insults to fight with her. Simply stating the facts is bad enough. “Our lives could have gone in a totally different direction. I could be, like, ninety-five-percent less damaged right now! So thanks a lot.” I’m being meaner than I have to be. But I can’t help it. “I’m so lucky I had a mom like you steering the ship.”
Her eyes remind me of Richard’s house as it started to fall apart — begging, screaming for help. But she’s not crying. Which feels like a wasted opportunity, really. She came barreling out here before her face was finished. This would’ve been the first time all week her tears could fall without the interference of makeup.
“I was sixteen when you were born,” she pleads. “I was twenty-six when Marco and I broke up. What the hell did I know about…‘steering the ship’?”
“Being young isn’t an excuse —”
“I did the best I could with what I had,” she interrupts. “Every choice I’ve ever made over the past eighteen years has been for you, first and foremost. If that wasn’t enough for you” — she lets go of my arms and throws her hands up — “then I’m sorry, Joey. I really am.”
“Oh, I see.” It’s clear I’ve succeeded at making her feel like shit. But I’m still so fired up that I can’t stop trying to make her feel even worse. “So messing around with Leo behind Marco’s back — you did that for me.”
“I’m human,” she says. “I had so much pain back then. I loved Marco so much it terrified me.” She pauses. “I didn’t want him to hurt me like every other man in the history of my life, but I also figured it was inevitable that he would, eventually. So I guess I thought I was beating him to the punch.” Her voice quivers as she tries to find more words. “How was I supposed to know he was the one good man in the world?” She rubs a few tears out of her eyes. “I don’t know what else to say. Hurt people hurt people.”
“You’re gonna throw a cliché at me right now?” I say. “Really?”
“I’m just saying I made a mistake.”
“Cheating is not a mistake!” I yell. “How many times have you been on the other end of it? All these assholes — they just made mistakes? Then why did I smash Luke’s windshield? Why did we burn Richard’s clothes in his bathtub? You’re such a hypocrite.”
“Joey?” a male voice calls out from behind me.
Mom wipes her eyes and pulls her hair behind her ears, forcing composure now that there’s a distant witness to our madness. Is that him? she delicately mouths at me. I almost forgot that I told her about Will yesterday. If we weren’t fighting I’d have so much to catch her up on.
I turn around and see him standing outside his front door in cotton pajama bottoms and a Yale T-shirt.
“Hey!” My voice sounds way croak-ier than it should. I clear my throat and give my best attempt at a friendly wave. “I’m coming down —”
And now he’s galloping toward us.
“Hey there,” he says directly to Mom. “I’m Will.”
“G —” she stammers. “Gia.”
“So you’re Joey’s —”
“Mom,” I finish. Then I look at her. “Will and I are just gonna hang out next door. Okay?”
She exhales in defeat.
Is it weird that I want to hug her? I don’t know. I’m still pissed, but I also feel bad about everything I just said. Especially because I didn’t fully mean it. I know how much she’s been through. And I definitely know how much she’s done for me. It’s one thing for her to be called a bad mom by other people. But now that I’ve called her a bad mom… I’m afraid she might actually start to believe it.
“Nice to meet you,” Will offers through the tension.
“You, too.” She turns around to go back up the hill without even saying bye to me. Her hair trails behind her in the wind.