Page 99 of Give Me a Shot

“It is good that you were able to find a better supplier, dear,” Jess’s mom said quickly to her father, finding a break in his monologue. “Uh, Jess?” She turned to her. “You’ve been quiet. How is your…um…social life going?”

“My social life?” Jess asked.

“Yes. You’ve moved back, you’re in a new city. Have you made any friends?”

Jess didn’t count anyone at the Folk School as friends quite yet. And while her colleagues were pleasant, she hadn’t spent enough time with them to consider them friends. Jess knew that her definition of “friend” had always been stricter than her mother’s, so she was hesitant about answering. But she needed to give her mom something, or she’d start bugging Jess about it.

“Well,” she said, “I’m still close with Alice and Stephanie from my PhD. We talk a lot. I’ve also made some friends at the place I go to practice.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” her mom said. “That’s good news, isn’t it, Ray?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he said before taking a sip of his refreshed scotch.

While her father’s lack of interest didn’t surprise her, Jess didn’t understand why her mother would think it waswonderfulthat she had friends.

“Although…” her mom added, “is there anyone who is…I mean, um, maybe more than a friend?”

Of course. Jess should have seen that coming. Her mom was being all weird and nosy because she wanted to know about Jess’s love life. She kept herself from rolling her eyes.

“Well, Mom, if you have to know, yes, I am seeing someone,” she said.

“Oh,” her father said, chuffing a laugh. “Unexpected.” He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, then closed it. His gaze drifted to his plate, then he raised his glass to his lips again.

Unexpected?

Jess swallowed hard. She’d spent so much of her life holding her tongue under this roof. So much time biting back the comeback, the question, the demand for an explanation. So much energy stuffing feelings down, every bit of her ached. But if she responded naturally, it would start a fight. The thing she was trying hard to avoid.

“I’m so happy for you, Jess,” her mother said, pulling Jess’s attention to her. Her mother’s eyes were a little wide as she darted a glance at Jess’s father, then back to Jess again. “I’m glad you’re not alone. What’s his name? What does he do? Are things serious yet?” her mom asked breathlessly.

Jess kept her face neutral, but inside she was partially screaming and partially confused. Why did her mother look at her father as though she was worried? But then, her mother always looked like she was worried. Her eyes were boring into Jess for answers about Mo. Maybe she would drop the subject if she felt like she had some information to chew on. Jess sighed again.

“His name is Mo,” she said. “He has his own successful automotive repair business. He’s divorced and co-parenting well with his ex to raise their twelve-year-old daughter.”

Her father harrumphed. Jess was not surprised.

“Jessica,” he said through a burp. “A kid? Blue-collar? Get a man who doesn’t have baggage and who uses his brain, not his hands.”

Jess didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust herself to at first. She’d kept it together so far and didn’t want to destroy the “nice”family time her mom had clearly worked so hard to put together. She did. Not. Want. To. Start. A. Fight.

Fuck it.

“Better that he works with his hands than uses them to beat me up,” she said, keeping her face placid and taking a small bite of pie. Her father’s face, on the other hand, was reddening. Her mother’s eyes looked like they were going to shoot out of her head.

“Oh, um…Jess, it’s good he owns his own business,” she blurted in a rush, the pitch of her voice far too high as she glanced worriedly at her father. “And he has a good relationship with his ex.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” her father asked Jess, his voice a threatening growl.

“It means exactly what it’s supposed to mean,” she said. “Left to their own devices, your daughters, I mean your remaining daughter, can choose a caring man who doesn’t see her as his property or a punching bag.”

Her father’s face was bright red and contorted. Jess could see the veins at his temples bulging.

“And,” Jess said, delicately taking another small bite of pie, “I’m building a support system in Detroit so that if Mo were to become violent with me, someone would step in. You two have made it clear that five and a half hours is too far a drive to check on your daughter.”

“Jess!” her mom gasped.

“No one talks to me like that in my house,” her father said.

“I didn’t talk to you like anything,” Jess said to him. “I stated a fact. The fact is, Cassie was in a dangerous situation. You knew; you did nothing.”

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