Page 69 of One-Star Romance

She sighed and sunk into the nearest chair. “No. To attend a lecture on dementia. About caring for a loved one with it and the progression of the disease. Your father seemed to be having a good day. I had a friend swing by and check on him at one point. I thought it would be all right. And when I called him afterward, he sounded fine too. He was all set up in front of the TV, acting like his normal self, and said he’d be turning in early. So on my way back to the train station, I just…” She rubbed her eyes, exhausted. “My mind was full of everything from the lecture, about how hard it was all going to become, and then the subway stopped at Times Square.”

“And, what?” he asked, pacing the room. “You got an uncontrollable urge to see Phantom of the Opera?”

“Robert.” She gave him the mildly stern look she’d summoned whenever he got a little too smart as a child. “It wasn’t Phantom, not that it matters. I know I made a mistake. Believe me, I’ve been beating myself up this whole train ride.” She tugged at the sleeve of her shirt and hesitated before continuing, “But I felt, in that moment, that maybe I could take one night, before things got really bad, to do something for myself. Something where I wasn’t just an extension of your father.”

“An extension? You’re not…” he began. But then he caught sight of her face, and the rawness of her expression knocked him sideways, even as she tried to smile.

Rob had always known that his father didn’t particularly care if he ruined other people’s careers. But Rob had never stopped to think that one of those ruined careers might have been his mother’s.

His mother shrugged. “The student, the mistress, the wife. And now I’ll be the caretaker. Tonight, I just needed to be something else too.”

Twenty-six. She’d only been twenty-six when she got pregnant with her married adviser’s baby, in an insular academic community where people talked. Rob looked at her more closely in her button-down shirt and dark slacks. She could have fit in seamlessly with the middle-aged female professors he saw around his own campus if she’d had a different adviser all those years ago, if things had gone a different way. She was only in her late fifties now, staying healthy with her twice-a-week Zumba classes. Soon, if not already, she’d be the one in charge around here, even if his father didn’t realize it. Yet that wasn’t the kind of control anybody wanted, the kind where one person could only gain because another lost so much. And she’d be tied to him even more tightly, losing what little independence she’d managed to eke out.

“Mom.” He sat down on the arm of the sofa near her. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, stop. I’m supposed to be the one apologizing here. And I don’t want you to think…” She took a long breath, her voice faltering. “You know, that summer when I took you to New York, I was trying—”

“It’s all right, we don’t have to talk about that,” he said quickly, standing up again. “We should figure out Dad—”

She looked sharply at him then, concern in her eyes. “Oh,” she said. “Oh no.”

“What?”

She reached out to clasp his hand, anchoring him in place. “I would hate if the only thing that came out of that time was me making you afraid to fail. Afraid to try something outside of what you’d known—”

“That’s not…I’m fine,” Rob said, his pulse starting to race. “I just think we need to—”

“Listen, please. Despite everything, I love the life your father and I have. He’s the most interesting man I’ve ever met. I hate that I’m losing him.” She sounded entirely drained. “But I’ve lost myself too. And I hope, more than anything, that you don’t feel like an extension. You’re his son, yes, but you’re also mine, and you’re so much more besides.”

Rob couldn’t articulate words for a moment, everything from the night all mixed-up inside of him. “Well, thank you,” he finally said, then extricated his hand and went back to his pacing, the comforting rhythm of back and forth on old familiar floors. “But you don’t have to handle the situation with Dad all alone. I just need you to tell me things. How long has this even been going on?”

She sighed, then sat up straighter. “Years, I think. But he’s so smart that he was able to cover it for a while, and I didn’t want to see. Things were deteriorating slowly, and it’s only in recent months that everything started happening all at once.” She shot him a sympathetic glance. “I was going to tell you soon, but it’s been such a rough time for you recently.”

“You could say that.”

“I really can’t believe Zuri would do such a thing—”

“Let’s not, please.”

“All right.” Her face was gentle. “He did read your dissertation, you know. When he couldn’t talk about it after reading it so thoroughly, that was the first time I thought maybe something was really wrong.”

Rob swallowed the lump in his throat. “Well, we’ll figure this out somehow. Jamie and Sarah will help too, I’m sure of it.” His half siblings had a complicated relationship with their father, but they’d come through. “But I’m here. For him and for you.”

She gave him a nod, a sad smile. “I know.” He stood up then, moving over to her and hugging her tightly, and they stayed like that, breathing quietly, for a long time. Then she cleared her throat and pulled away. “But in this particular moment, you have that nice girl sitting outside in the car.” She drew her shoulders back, rearranging herself into the woman who was ready to take care of them all as she always had. “Don’t make her wait too long.”

27

When Natalie had driven a few minutes away from the house, before they reached the highway, Rob sat forward in the passenger seat.

“Can we turn off here for a moment?” he asked, and she followed his directions to a grassy field.

“The Princeton Battlefield,” he explained. “I liked to come here when I was a teenager, when I needed to think. It’s pretty. Peaceful.” He paused, looking out into the inky blackness before them. “The effect is ruined somewhat in the dark.”

“Yeah, it feels more like you’ve brought us here to murder me,” Nat said.

“Sorry,” he said. “We should go back to the party. I’ve already taken you away from it long enough.”

But Natalie didn’t restart the car, and after a moment, Rob folded his arms on the dashboard, then leaned over them. Head down, he took in deep breaths. Natalie couldn’t tell if he was crying or trying hard not to. She put a tentative hand on his back, and at that, the tears did come, fast and quiet, his back hot under her palm even through his shirt.

---