“No,” he said, shaking his head. “The person who really loves her mother, but who had the courage to say she wanted a divorce. That’s a big change for you, isn’t it? At least from when you were younger.”
“It is,” I admitted. I no longer knew if I was ready to divorce, but I was proud of myself for telling Josh I wanted one when that had still been true. Even six months earlier, I’d never have done that.
He smiled. His top teeth were like an orthodontics ad; the bottom were like a bunch of kindergarteners trying to form a straight line. “And that person will know what to do about this, too, don’t you think?”
I wasn’t sure I did think that—but I wanted to. “I hope you’re right,” I said.
“I’m always right most of the time,” he said, and I grinned back at him.
We were just about in front of my mother’s brownstone. “Well. This is me,” I said.
“This is you,” he said. “Hey, Laine?”
“Yeah?” He had such a great face. So calm. So . . . Ben-like. In spite of our conversation, looking at him made me feel like things were going to be okay.
“Do you think we can try again? To be friends, I mean?” he said.
Yes, I immediately thought. The answer has been yes since the second I saw you on Smith Street, and even before that.
“I’d really like to,” I said. “But how do we do that after all this time? I . . . I really don’t want to screw things up again.”
“I don’t, either.” His brown eyes held my gaze, and even though I was pretty sure glancing away was the socially acceptable action to take, I didn’t do it. After not seeing him for sixteen years, he was finally here in front of me, and it was like someone had found the key to the secret part of me that had long been locked up. I was not about to cut this moment short.
Finally, Ben reached into his pocket for his phone. “Well,” he said. “As for how to do this, I think it starts with us exchanging phone numbers so I can text you later to find out how your talk with your mom went.”
I laughed, not because it was funny but because I didn’t know what else to do with the overwhelming feelings of delight and relief that I was experiencing. “Okay,” I agreed. “Let’s start there.”
My elation dissipated as I let myself inside the apartment. My mother was at the kitchen table, pencil in hand, staring down at a crossword puzzle. She didn’t hear me, and I watched her for a moment, wondering whether it was worth it to discuss what I’d learned with her.
I almost expected to hear Ben’s voice, but instead, it was my own that rang through my head. You were willing to give up your life for her, I thought angrily. Your dream. She’s asking you to put her needs first in the most significant way possible—she at least owes you an explanation.
“Mom?” I said.
“Hello, dear.”
“Is Josh here?” I asked her.
“No, he went for a run,” she said, still staring at the paper.
“Mom,” I said. “I need to talk to you about something.”
“Anything, dear,” she said. Her absentminded tone made me wonder if this was the right time to bring it up.
Stop worrying about what’s right for everyone else, the voice within me argued. It’s the right time for you, Laine. And the longer you wait, the more likely you are to chicken out.
“Mom, can we talk?”
She lifted her head and I examined her. Her expression didn’t seem glazed over, and that was a start. “What is it, Laine?”
I had to say it quickly before I lost my nerve. “Were you and Reggie having an affair?”
The sound that came out of her sounded almost like a squawk. Then she said, “Laine Alexandra Francis, that is a very bold . . .”
Her darting eyes told me she couldn’t remember the word.
“Accusation?” I supplied. I felt bad that she’d had a lapse, but I wasn’t willing to let that derail this conversation. “But is it, Mom? You told me—you told everyone—that you and Dad loved each other. I mean, I knew your relationship wasn’t perfect.” Far from it, really; I’d been trying hard to remember a time when I could actually remember them being affectionate to each other, and the only thing I could think of was their fortieth-anniversary party, when they’d been posing for a photo. “But you two were married for four decades. If you weren’t happy, why not ask for a divorce?” I hadn’t realized how angry I was until I heard the clipped tone of my voice. “And why Reggie? Couldn’t you have picked anyone other than Ben’s father?”
“Laine, that is my business,” she said in a hurt voice. “Not yours.”
I pulled out a chair across from her and sat down. She pushed the paper away, which is when I realized she hadn’t filled in a single square. That’s not what’s important right now, I reminded myself. “No, Mom. It’s mine, too. Because it’s why you told me not to get involved with Ben, isn’t it?”
She looked like I’d slapped her. “I did no such thing,” she said in a low voice.
“Yes, you did. You told me not to get into a relationship with him because it would ruin our friendship. In fact, you said that repeatedly. And even though I didn’t want to, I listened to you,” I said, my anger growing by the second. “But you know what really kills me?”
She stuck her bottom lip out. “You’re not acting like yourself right now, Laine. It really pains me to see you of all people giving your mother a hard time.”
“You’re being manipulative,” I said frankly. I felt as shocked as she looked, but it felt like the truth, and wasn’t that what I was aiming for? “Just like you were then. You didn’t care one bit about what was good for me—you just didn’t want to see Reggie anymore because you’d broken up.”
She stared at me.
“Ben told me everything, Mom,” I said. “And Reggie told him. All of this is so stupid! Did you think somehow Ben and I would end up getting married and you’d have to look across the aisle at the guy you really wanted to be with?”
She looked down at her nails. “Well, yes. That did cross my mind.”
Now I said nothing. I couldn’t; I was too shocked. She’d thought that?
“Laine, I don’t want to fight with you,” she said quietly. “Not when you and I are going to be living under the same roof. Please, let’s not speak of this again.” Her eyes were pleading. “Not to your sisters—I don’t want them to think terrible things about me. Not to anyone.”
I rubbed my forehead. I hadn’t thought through whether I’d tell Hadley and Piper, and if so, what exactly I’d tell them. “What happened to ‘I want you to make the decisions that are best for you’? That’s what you said to me the other day,” I said, in case she’d forgotten. “Did you even mean it?” Or are you relegating me to the sidelines again? I added internally. Because I couldn’t help but feel that we were slipping right back into our old pattern. And this time, I didn’t have it in me to pretend not to feel hurt and rejected.
She jutted her chin out. “You’ve always been free to make any choice you want, Laine.”
Now all of the pain I’d been feeling toward her boomeranged right back at me. She was right, of course. I could have dated Ben in spite of what she’d said. Or reached out to him after we fought. I had chosen not to, and that was on me.
Well, I had a choice now, too. Would I keep on trying to make my mother happy, or finally make decisions for myself for a change?
“Laine?” Josh, clad in damp running clothes, was standing just outside the kitchen. He was staring at me, which made me wonder how much of our conversation he’d overheard. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said. But as I heard myself, it occurred to me that I’d fallen right back into my usual pattern—sidestepping the truth to make things more palatable for everyone else. And that was no longer the way I wanted to operate. “Actually, I need to ask you for a favor.”
“Anything,” he said, mopping his forehead with the corner of his T-shirt.
“Thanks. I need you to stay with Mom for a few days until Piper, Hadley, and I can work something else out.”
He and my mother both looked confused. “Wait—where are you going?” he asked.
“Back to Ann Arbor, Josh. I need to clear my head.”