My attempt to remain far, far away from Athens on Mother’s Day weekend fails this year. I plan a day trip on Saturday to attend Troy’s graduation from Athens Community College and Bethany’s baby shower. When I agreed to attend, I informed my friends that I would not be spending the night—I claimed I wanted to spend Mother’s Day with Alma when really, I plan to spend the day with my daughter. Of course, Adrian and Bethany know my real Mother’s Day plans.
I recently developed a new addiction—I enjoy listening to audiobooks of my favorite reads. After I read a book once and sometimes twice, I download it on Audible. I listen via my phone while I drive, clean, or lay in bed at night. On my drive to Athens today, I am enjoying Cambria Hebert’s Hashtag Series. I’ve already read the series twice. My three-hour drive flies by as I enjoy the stories yet again.
I hit town twenty minutes before the graduation ceremony is slated to begin. I stop quickly to refill my gas tank for the drive home later today. At the college, I park along the street and slip into my saved seat with five minutes to spare.
Our gang does our best to embarrass Troy. Adrian blows her air-horn while the rest of us cheer loudly. Troy turns to the crowd points in our direction then raises both hands in rock-devil-horns while sticking out his tongue. Many in the crowd laugh at his antics. We on the other hand know we didn’t embarrass him in the least.
Following the graduation ceremony, Troy and Bethany’s family join us at the Christian Church for lunch and Bethany’s baby shower. Their parents decided to combine the two celebrations into one event. Bethany’s mother arranged for it to be at their church as it was one of the only venues big enough for both families and our group of friends.
Bethany looks amazing at seven months pregnant. Today I’ve seen first-hand the extreme level of Troy’s overprotectiveness. Bethany shares new stories every time we talk, but seeing it live in person makes it more ridiculous. Bethany’s parents drove her to and from graduation. Troy immediately places her in a chair, then waits on her hand-and-foot. She’s only allowed to stand for her frequent visits to the restroom—even then Troy hovers.
I realize Bethany and Troy love spending time with their families, but this baby shower is out of control. I attempt to do a headcount but fail twice as people move around visiting and paying no attention to Bethany opening her two eight-foot tables full of gifts. If I average the two headcounts, there are at least forty people here. Young children run between chairs and tables unsupervised by their parents. Older relatives stand on one side loudly carrying on their conversation about The Farmer’s Almanac’s predictions for this summer, fall, and what it means for the crops. I struggle to focus on my friend and the reason we are all here at this moment. When their nearby conversation moves to recent deaths amongst their friends, I can take it no more.
“Excuse me,” I interrupt as I approach their group. “This is Bethany’s baby shower. Her first baby shower. I drove over three hours to be here today. This is not the time to discuss death and funerals loud enough they can hear you in the sanctuary. Please move your conversation outside or sit down and quietly watch Bethany and Troy open the baby gifts.” I stomp back to my chair, throwing a glare over my shoulder. I dare them to defy me, but I hope I didn’t upset Bethany—she’s the only one I care about. If anyone else didn’t like my actions they can suck it. I want to celebrate with my friend.
When the elderly group grab their coats to leave, Bethany blows me a kiss before she returns to opening the baby stroller Alma and I purchased for her. It’s the same model we use with Liberty as we walk McGee. I hope she enjoys it as much as I do.
Opening the baby gifts takes as long as Troy’s graduation ceremony. Bethany rolls her neck and Troy massages her shoulders. She rubs her lower back and removes her ballet flats to wiggle her toes. I hope both families witness her exhaustion and leave soon. I hug Bethany and apologize for my outburst. Troy assures me I wasn’t the only one annoyed. I inform Troy he needs to get her home in the next thirty minutes. She needs to put her feet up and be waited on for the rest of the day. I mention a massage would be a nice touch, too. I hug Bethany one more time, she whispers in my ear to hug Libby for her, and I leave.