She trailed off, and I realized how rare this was, her using my dad’s old trick. My mom never liked to leave any of her meaning in another person’s hands. ‘But then,’ I repeated.
‘I came anyway,’ she finished. ‘Call it a mother’s prerogative. I wonder if your dad and Heidi can spare a cup of coffee?’
‘Of course,’ I said, walking over to the cupboard to pull out a mug. I was trying to reach up to get one and manage Isby, who had suddenly decided to go all squirmy on me, when I looked over at my mom, who was watching me with a curious expression. ‘Do you think you could –’
‘Oh,’ she said. Then she sat up straighter, as if about to be graded on something, and held out her hands. ‘Certainly.’
I handed Isby over, feeling my mom’s fingers brush mine as she left my hands for hers. Before I turned back to get the coffee, it struck me how strange it was to see my mother with a baby. She looked awkward sitting there, her arms bent at the elbow, studying Isby’s face with a clinical expression, as if she was a puzzle or riddle. In turn, Isby stared back at her, googly eyed, moving her little hands in circles, around and around again. Still, when I slid the coffee in front of her a few moments later, I stood at her side, prepared to take over. But she kept her eyes on the baby, so I sat down instead.
‘She’s very cute,’ she said finally. ‘Looks a little like you did at this age.’
‘Really?’
My mom nodded. ‘It’s the eyes. They’re just like your father’s.’
I looked at Isby, who seemed to be not at all worried about being held by a stranger, much less one who was clearly somewhat uncomfortable. As far as she knew, everyone she met had her best interest at heart.
‘I didn’t mean to worry you,’ I said to my mom now. ‘I’ve just… there’s just been a lot going on.’
‘I could tell.’ She eased Isby into a seated position, picking up her coffee with her other hand. ‘But I still got worried, when in that last call, you started asking about the divorce. You sounded so different.’
‘Different how?’ I asked.
She considered this for a minute. Then she said, ‘The word that comes to mind is younger, actually. Although for the life of me, I can’t explain why that is.’
It made sense to me, but I didn’t say so. Instead, I reached out, taking one of Isby’s fat fingers and squeezing it. She looked at me, then back at my mom.
‘The truth is, I thought I was losing you,’ she said, more to Isby than to me. ‘When you came down here, to your father and Heidi, and made all these friends. And then with the argument we had about the dorms… I suppose I’d just gotten comfortable thinking we were on the same page. And then, suddenly, we weren’t. It was very strange. Almost lonely.’
Almost, I thought. Out loud I said, ‘Just because we don’t see eye to eye on everything doesn’t mean we can’t be close.’
‘True,’ she agreed. ‘But I suppose it was just very jarring for me. To see you changing so quickly. It was like you had this whole world of traditions and language I didn’t understand, and there wasn’t a place in it for me.’
She was still looking at Isby as she said this – face to her face, her hands around the baby’s waist – as if these words were meant for her ears alone. ‘I know the feeling,’ I said.
‘Do you?’
I nodded. ‘Yeah. I do.’
Now, she turned, looking at me. ‘I could not bear,’ she said slowly, making sure each word was clear, ‘to think that a choice I made in my life had somehow ruined yours. That would be unthinkable for me.’
I thought of us that night on the phone, the way her voice had softened suddenly, when I’d brought up the divorce. My mother had always had her cold, hard shell, this brittle armor she put up between her and everyone else. But maybe, all along, she’d seen it differently. That I was not outside, banging to get in, but in there with her, protected and safe, giving her all the more reason to stay that way.
‘You didn’t ruin my life,’ I told her. ‘I just wish we’d talked more.’
‘About the divorce?’
‘About everything.’
She nodded, and for a moment, we just sat there, both of us watching Isby, who was studying her feet. Then she said, ‘That’s never been my strong suit. The emotional talking thing.’
‘I know,’ I agreed. She looked at me. ‘It wasn’t mine either. But I kind of got a crash course this summer.’
‘Really,’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ I took in a breath. ‘It’s not that hard, actually.’
‘Well.’ She swallowed. ‘Maybe you can teach me sometime.’
I smiled at her. I’d just reached to put my hand over hers, feeling it warm beneath mine, when I felt Heidi’s phone buzz in my back pocket.
‘Shoot,’ I said, pulling it out. ‘I better get this.’
‘Go ahead,’ she replied, sitting back and resettling Isby on her lap. ‘We’re fine.’
I got to my feet, then hit TALK without checking the ID. ‘Hello?’
‘Heidi?’
The fact that my dad didn’t recognize my voice said something, although I wasn’t sure I wanted to think about what, exactly. I considered just hanging up, taking the coward’s way out. But instead I said, ‘No. It’s Auden.’
‘Oh.’ A pause. ‘Hi there.’
‘Hi,’ I said. I looked at my mom, who was watching me, then turned my back, starting into the foyer. It still seemed too close, though, so I headed upstairs. ‘Um, Heidi’s not here. She left her phone by accident when she went to the Beach Bash.’