had to be the grown-up.”
Sean’s hazels soften and I decide they’re far more green than brown. “Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t trade her for the world. She was a lot of fun.”
“Was?”
“Yeah. I learned how to drive when I was eight.”
He leans forward. “Come again?”
“That’s right. I had mad skills,” I boast, braving another drink of my whiskey with a splash of flat Coke.
“Sure you did.”
“We didn’t have a lot of money, so we made do. My mom was creative. She always found a way to make that extra twenty dollars a week work. One sunny Saturday, she had this brilliant idea to take me on an abandoned road and let me go nuts.” I smile, lost in the memory. “She put a phone book in the driver’s seat and just let me at it, for hours. She let me two-wheel our minivan. Then afterward, she would take us to this roadside barbecue shack that had the best tater tots with cheese. So, for a year or so that became our Saturday ritual. Me, my mom, a phone book, our minivan, and tater tots with cheese.”
Sean leans back in his seat, his beer halfway to his mouth. “I love that.”
“She had this way about her, a way I’m envious of sometimes. She could make something out of nothing, made ordinary days spectacular.” I study Sean as he nods. “You remind me of her in that way.”
He winks. “It’s all about the company we keep.”
“Don’t credit me for being the fun one. We both know I’m not. I’m a ‘stay-in-the-lines’ kind of girl and you’re, well, you’re the red crayon.”
He kicks back and shrugs. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Nothing wrong with being responsible and taking care of the people you love.”
“It’s insanely boring,” I take another swig of my drink. “My friend Christy saved me from being a total introvert.” I dart my eyes down. “I’ve never wanted to be the center of attention, you know? But I always envied those people who could make ordinary days, extraordinary. Like you, and Christy, and my mom.”
“You have it in you.”
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. I’m just meant to be a fan of those who do. Anyway, what about your parents? Tell me about the restaurant.”
“I’ll do one better; I’ll take you there sometime soon. I want them to meet you.”
“I’d love that.”
“They’re my idols—both of them. Good people with strong opinions, big hearts, all about family and loyalty, married for over thirty years. They work side by side every single day. They live out in the open, fight out in the open, and make up out in the open.”
“They love each other out in the open, huh? Maybe that’s why you’re so openly affectionate with me?”
“Probably.”
“Well, those are good idols to have,” I drawl, my fourth mouthful of drink going down a lot smoother. “This isn’t so bad. Maybe I’m a whiskey girl.”
“Easy, killer.” He peels at his beer label. “You don’t talk much about your dad.”
“That’s because I have no idea who the man is. I really have no clue why he wants me to be in his life at all. Appearances are deceiving. I may be here, but he’s not. Half of the weeks I’ve been here, he stays in Charlotte. After nineteen years, he’s still a mystery to me. An iceberg. It’s pretty bad when you can’t see any humanity in the man responsible for half your created life. When I got here—and although I was pissed about it—I tried to keep an open mind, but it’s proven pointless. If I had to choose one word to describe him and our relationship, it would be evasive.”
He nods and takes another sip of his beer.
“And your mother?”
“Absent,” I say softly, shaking off the threatening emotion and muster up a smile. “Painfully so, as of the last six months.”
He turns my hand over on the table and runs the pads of his fingers on the inside of my palm. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s life. I’m all grown up now. Mom did her job. Dad at least helped pay some of the bills. I really have no reason to complain.” But it’s hurt that seeps into me as I recall a time where I felt like my mother’s priority.
“I miss her,” I admit as I pull my hand away and shake my head. “They say she was born in a directionless generation. I honestly have to agree with that assessment. For years, she lived this big abundant