Page 31 of Still Love You

"Silas, I can't come over every night. We can't do this. We're not dating."

"I was just going to ask if you could help me with accounting. I haven't had much time to study and I have a quiz next week."

"Oh. Yeah. Of course. Just call me and I'll be over."

"Thanks." He give me a hug. "Goodnight."

He turns and walks away. He's so confusing. He started out the night being all flirty and now he's back to acting like we're just friends.

The next morning I wake up to noise in the kitchen. It sounds like someone dropped a pan. It's six-thirty so my mom's probably making breakfast. She and my dad usually head to the farm around seven. My mom helps out in the mornings, then comes back here in the afternoons to make calls and do paperwork. She runs the business side of things; tracking sales, paying bills, managing the retail accounts, and coordinating when and where stuff needs to be delivered. She doesn't have a business degree so she always says that what she's doing isn't business, but it is and I tell her that all that time. In fact, both my parents refuse to think of themselves as business people. They just say they're farmers trying to make a difference. But in reality they're thriving entrepreneurs, which is what made me want to go into business.

I stumble out of bed and into the kitchen. My mom is there, filling her coffee mug.

"Where's Dad?"

"I already dropped him off." She's talking fast and her smile seems forced. I open my sleepy eyes more and notice she's wearing a skirt. A normal skirt, not one of her long, flowing hippie skirts. And she has a blouse on. A beige button-up blouse like you'd wear to an office. This is odd. I've never seen her dressed like this. I didn't even know she owned those types of clothes.

"Why are you dressed like that?" I ask.

"I'm going to work." She wipes the counter with a dish towel. "I have to leave in a few minutes."

"Work? You're wearing that to the farm?"

"I'm not going to the farm. I'm going to the office." She sets the dish cloth down by the sink. "I didn't get a chance to tell you that I got a job. I'm a receptionist at a real estate company."

"What? Why would you work at a real estate company?"

"You're away at college now so I felt it was time to get a job."

"You already have a job. Managing the farm with Dad."

"I'll still be doing that, but I'm doing this as well." She comes over and gives me a hug. "Have a good day. Do you have any plans?"

"Mom. Back up. What's going on here? Why did you get a job?"

"I just told you why. Now that you're all grown up, it's time for me to go back to work."

"You've worked my whole childhood."

"That wasn't work. That was helping your father out."

"You both own the farm. And you weren't just helping out. You were managing the whole business. You still do."

"Honey, I really need to go. We'll talk later." She grabs her purse and heads to the door.

"What time will you be home?"

"Around six. Don't worry about dinner. I have leftover tofu from last night."

She leaves before I can ask any more. This doesn't make sense. My mom has never had an office job. I don't think she's had any job other than managing the farm with my dad. And now she decides to be a receptionist at a real estate company? I can't imagine her sitting at a desk all day, typing and answering phones. That's not her at all. And those clothes? She didn't even look like my mom. She normally dresses like a hippie, with long flowing skirts, peasant blouses, and a scarf tied around her head. I used to be so embarrassed to be seen with her dressed like that, but it's her, so I eventually got over my embarrassment. She looked nice today, but that's not my mom. It doesn't fit her bright and colorful personality.

What's going on with her? Did she really just want a new job or is it something else? It can't be about money. The farm is doing great. My parents deliver our products to some of the best restaurants in town and they always sell a lot at the farmers' markets.

I don't know what's going on but I don't like it. Something doesn't feel right.

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