Page 36 of Loathe at First Sight

Before we go our separate ways, I say, “Oh, just letting you know I haven’t forgotten about your car. I did look it over and diagnose it.”

“Oh, okay. What was wrong with it?”

I start to give an in-depth account of what I found, but she holds her hand up to stop me. “Better yet, I don’t need to know.”

“Not very car savvy, huh?”

“Nope. To me, you sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher.”

That gets a chuckle out of me. “I’ve ordered some parts, but I’m not sure when they’ll be in. I’ll keep you updated.”

“You know where to find me,” she says with the slightest hint of sarcasm.

Before I can say another word, she takes off jogging back on the road leading into town. Meanwhile, I walk toward my truck to get in and drive back to my place, which happens to be an apartment above the shop.

Driving away, I try to leave any thoughts of her back on the trails. I don't have time to think about her today.

twelve

Cheese Puffs and Label Makers

Liz

“Alright, I’ll go put your order in,” the waitress tells us as she takes our menu and walks away. My mom drove us to a Mexican restaurant that lies on the outskirts of town. I remember coming here when I was a kid, but it had different owners and a different name back then.

Neither of us has said a word since we left the house. Well, nothing of note. We discussed what to get to eat, but that’s been the extent of it.

When we are alone again, I ask, “Mom, what are we doing here?”

“We’re getting dinner,” she replies while scooping some salsa onto her tortilla chip.

“I can see that. But why?”

“Because I think it’s about time you and I talk.”

Here we go.

“Do we have to?” I ask.

“Yes, and I’d appreciate you dropping the sarcasm.”

“Not sure I’m capable of that, but I’ll try.”

“Let’s start by getting a couple of facts straight. One, I’m not disappointed in you.”

I let out a heavy scoff, which prompts her to add, “I’m serious.”

“Come on, Mom. I fucked up. I fucked up my whole life. I’m disappointed in myself.”

“Eliza, it’s not my job to kick you when you're down. I am tremendously proud of you and all that you’ve accomplished. You went out into the world and were carving out your place in it. I think that’s amazing.” She sounds just like Dad.

Her words come as a complete shock to me because this woman has always acted like I was the devil for leaving to do my own thing.

“That never seemed to be the case,” I tell her. “I thought you hated me for leaving.”

She swirls the straw around the rim of her glass. “Eliza, you were my first baby. The first one who called me momma. The first one who fell asleep on my chest. I wasn’t ready for you to leave. To be honest, I don’t think I ever would have been ready. It’s hard when you move hours away and barely keep in contact. I had a lot of sleepless nights worrying about you. It’s not easy to let any of you go. But it was especially hard to let you go, knowing that the visits would be few and far between.”

Wanting to defend myself a little, I say, “Ronnie left too. I don’t feel like you gave her this much grief.”

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