“Good morning,” she said. “Nice day. You should go to the beach.”
“I’m going to,” I said. “I’m meeting Jamie.”
My mom peered at me over the rim of her coffee cup and said nothing.
“What?” I snapped. “We’re friends.”
She held up a hand in defense. “Okay! It just seems soon.”
“Well, it’s not,” I said. “I see her every day, and the sooner it’s normal, the better.”
“If I were you, I’d still be mad,” she said, poking the doughnut carcasses. She picked up a piece of powdered sugar and took a bite, leaving white residue on the corner of her mouth. “The anger stage is the best part of the grief cycle.”
I brushed the corner of my mouth so my mom would wipe hers. Ten years since the divorce, and you’re still in it, I thought. I felt guilty immediately. “Wouldn’t that be acceptance?”
My mom scrunched up her face as if thinking it over. “Nah.”
I laughed, which made her smile. She returned to her book, and I began assembling twin turkey-tomato-mustard-provolone sandwiches. I threw them into a bag with chips and cookies and two giant water bottles left over from soccer seasons past.
“Okay, Mom,” I said. “I’m headed out.”
“Hey, Quinn?”
“Yeah?”
“Speaking of your dad. You know he’s coming into town, right?”
“Yeah,” I said cautiously. I didn’t know she knew, actually. I was never really sure how transparent to be with either of them about the other. “I think we’re going to get breakfast or something.” I knew we were, really, but I didn’t want my mom to think I was too eager.
“You know why, right?”
“He said he’s visiting a friend?”
She sighed. “He’s got a job interview.”
“A job…here?” I asked dumbly.
“Yeah.”
She peered at me again, trying to see how I felt, which meant I had to work out how I felt and then keep it from showing on my face. Mainly I was confused.
“It’s not a sure thing,” my mom added. “They might not make an offer, and even if they do he might not take it. I think he’s content where he is.”
Only then did it hit me. “What about UNC?”
“If he took the job, and if UNC is where you end up—”
“It will be,” I interjected, now fully annoyed. I couldn’t believe this. Any of it.
“Okay, well,” my mom sighed. “We’ll cross those bridges when we come to them.”
My mom watched me stew for a few moments, until I remembered that the polite thing to do was to not make this all about me.
“How would you feel about it?” I asked. “If he moved here again.”
“Eh.” She shrugged. “I don’t expect it to change anything for me. I don’t see him.”
I nodded, not entirely sure whether I believed her. My parents’ divorce was not amicable, though they communicated about me via oddly abbreviated text message when necessary. Which must have been how my dad had informed her of the job interview. I wondered why he hadn’t yet told me. Maybe he didn’t want me to freak out before he knew for sure. Or maybe he was just waiting for our breakfast, so he could freak me out in person. He did love a big reveal. I’d have to pretend Mom hadn’t already told me so he wouldn’t be mad at her for ruining it.
I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, and she hugged me around the neck, still propping her book open with her other hand. “I don’t think it will change much for me, either,” I said, both reassuring her and trying to convince myself.
“I hope not.”
“Yeah. Okay.” I slung my beach bag over my shoulder, suddenly desperate to get away. “I really have to go.”
“Be safe. And say hi to Jamie for me.”
“I will.”
Despite what she’d said, my mom loved Jamie, a fact about which my feelings had changed at least