“His life has been screwed up? His life?” She stands up and starts pacing around the kitchen. “I lost my sister. My best friend. I quit college. I moved home and became a mom at nineteen. Don’t tell me his life was screwed up.”
These are the feelings I’ve always gotten from touching her: sadness, resentment, guilty regret. I know she loves me. I know she wouldn’t trade me or the E’s for what might have been, but it must be hard to let go of the plans you had for yourself.
“You cannot see him, Eva. I cannot have you involved with that family.” She spits out the last word, like it tastes bad on her tongue.
“Mom. I’ve waited my whole life for someone I could have a real relationship with. I’m not going to give him up because you have an issue with his dad.”
“You should have an issue with his dad! You should have an issue with his whole family!”
“Well, I don’t. I don’t feel the same way that you do.”
“You can’t even touch him, Eva!” I can tell she didn’t think that through by the way she averts her eyes as soon as it’s out of her mouth.
I stare at her for a second, almost not believing I heard those words. It’s a low blow, like my touch is the only thing that would keep a guy interested. I toss the dish towel onto the counter and walk away. We’re not going to make any progress with this discussion.
She follows me.
“I’m serious, Eva. Dating any boy could end in heartbreak for you. But that boy?!”
“Dating any boy could end in heartbreak for anyone — not just me.”
“You are not to see him anymore.” Ha! Like she can stop me.
I try to stay calm. “I don’t think that’s fair.”
“Yeah, well ... I don’t think it’s fair that I lost my sister. Life isn’t fair.”
“His dad took your sister, so you take my boyfriend?”
My mom sighs in frustration. “It’s not like you’re going to marry this kid, Eva. He’s your first real boyfriend. Why not just save us all some aggravation?”
“Okay, first? I never said I was going to marry him. We just started dating! But I like him. He’s amazing and I don’t see why your feelings about his dad should matter. What is this, Romeo and Juliet?”
“His father killed your parents!”
“You’re my parents! You and dad! I never knew my other parents! I know you miss them, I know you’re angry. But I am just trying to live the life that I have!”
I wish so much that my dad were here. He’d get what I’m saying. He’d understand because he didn’t know my parents either, and he might be able to talk my mom down from her anger. But he’s not here.
I grab my coat and head for the front door.
“We are not done with this discussion!” she threatens.
I walk out of the house and slam the door and she can’t really follow me because it’s close to dinnertime and she has four little mouths to feed, just down the street at Bethany’s. She’s stuck, but I’m not. I head straight to Zenn’s. Of course, he’s not home. I knew he wouldn’t be, but I don’t have anywhere else to go. I try to text him. He doesn’t answer.
I wander around in the snow for a while before I get too cold and head to Java Dock, hoping Zenn will get back before it closes.
It’s nearly eight when he finally responds.
Zenn: Sorry. Fucking blizzard. What’s up?
Me: My mom knows.
There is a text lag.
Me: I’ll say it for you — fuckity fuck
Zenn: Where are u?
Me: Java Dock
Zenn: Be there in a few
When he comes in he goes straight to the counter for a coffee. He’s been outside for hours and I’m sure he’s frozen through. His coat is covered in a fine layer of ice, and although his skin looks paler than usual, his cheeks and nose are red.
Once he gets his coffee and takes a warming sip, he sits down next to me on the couch and reaches for my hand. I’m not sure whose hand is colder, his or mine.
My mom is crazy if she thinks I’m letting him go.
“So what happened?” he asks.
I tell him what I know, that my mom somehow found out about his dad.
“She doesn’t want me to see you anymore.” I swear my voice sounds calm and collected, but something must give away my real feelings because Zenn gathers me into his arms and pulls me against his chest. I press my face into his coat, into his clean, hopeful, snowy scent.
“Maybe she’s right,” he says.
This is not what I want to hear at all.
“You think she’s right?”
“I told you, my family is fucked up. You should go off to MIT or wherever and find yourself a nice fellow math genius with a normal family. Your mom would like that.”
I pull away. I don’t even know where to start with what is wrong with that proposal. “First of all, I would never do that to my future children. Two math-geek parents? Please.”
This makes him smile.
“Plus, I’m not going to MIT. Or … wherever.”
This surprises him.
“Yes, you are.”
He sounds so sure, but he doesn’t know about the email I sent to Stephanie Rayner.
“I’m eighteen. My mom can’t tell me who to date.”
“But you do live in her house.”
“She needs me as much as I need her. The E’s need me. And deep down, she still loves me.” My voice cracks a little, my throat tightens. She still loves me.
“Well, what do you want to do? Lie to her? Sneak around? That doesn’t seem like you.”
I sit on my hands, out of habit. He’s right. I’m not the kind of daughter who would normally lie and sneak. But … I look up at him, at his irresistible mouth, his eyelashes that practically fan me every time he blinks. The strongest and most resilient, determined boy I’ve ever met. The only person I can touch. The only person I want to touch. Desperate times may call for some sneaking.
He stares at the floor. I slide my hand across his shoulders and down his back. The more I touch him, the more I believe in the power of touch.
“Hey,” I say. “She’ll get over it,” I reassure him, even though I’m not sure she will. But if she doesn’t … we’re adults now. Or almost adults. We get to make our own decisions. It’s a scary thought, but also liberating. I get to choose for myself. He gives me an uncertain look, so I kiss him. For the first time since we’ve been together, it feels like he resists, so I kiss him with more — with my mouth and my body and my soul, ignoring the fact that we’re in a coffee shop. Who cares? He’s the only thing that matters.
And then he kisses me back like I’m the only thing that matters.
Without saying much else we leave and go back to his place. His mom is not home and the emptiness of the apartment and its boundless possibilities hang heavy in the air.
“This is where you sleep?” I ask, gesturing to the couch. I’ve never asked him before, but the tiny apartment only has one bedroom and I assume it’s his mom’s, even if she’s rarely there to use it.
He nods and must sense some pity in my voice because he adds, “It … folds out. To a bed.” I could swear he blushes a little, but in the dim light I can’t be sure.
“It does?” My voice is amazingly calm. “Show me.”
He looks at me for a moment, direct and questioning. I don’t look away.