Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Rose looked at me in surprise when I walked through her door the next morning. “Didn’t expect to see you here so soon.”
“Really? How long do you think is appropriate for a son to stay away when his mother calls him a child molester?”
She didn’t have any anger in her eyes, not even in her voice. “Why do you keep coming here?”
I stopped where I was, not going much farther than the doorway.
“I know you don’t want to be around me. I know you don’t even want to be in this town. Just leave. I can take care of myself. I don’t care if the house is clean; that’s all you’re doing.”
Maybe it was just the unexpected shock of her clarity and directness that made me take her seriously.
I walked over and sat on the couch beside her recliner. My eyes found hers, neither of us feeling strange at the closeness. “I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know why I keep coming back here. I don’t know why I want to talk to you.”
“You don’t want to talk to me.”
I took a second before I answered. I really didn’t want to talk to her; she was right.
“I want you to be my mom. I don’t need you to make me cupcakes or be all lovey-dovey or anything, but I do want you to act like you are my mom.
Like you actually care about me. Or maybe at least act like you don’t want to see me hurt all the time. ”
She shrugged but still held my gaze. “Why?”
“You’re my mom.”
“And you’re grown up. You don’t need me to be a mom.”
“Why do you do this?” I could feel myself start to get angry, and I didn’t want to. Not again. “What have I done to make you hate me? I don’t believe it’s just because of the gay thing.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Then why?”
She didn’t answer.
“Mom, please. Can’t we just… I don’t know… we could….”
She glanced toward the kitchen. “Would you get me some water?”
I let a sigh escape. “Sure.”
“Then, why don’t you leave?”
“Mom, come on. Let’s just talk a little bit.”
She almost gave me a smile. “Just leave.”