Page 11 of Roommating

“No…” She laughs. “But he’s your father.”

“Whatever.”

Marcia’s face clouds over, and it breaks my heart. To finally make the choice to be her true self after decades of withholding a huge part of herself, only to be rejected by her own son, the person she brought into this world and loved unconditionally. A pain like that never goes away. Even though she knows this is a Jeffrey problem and not a Marcia problem—just as I know that Audrina and I are not to blame for our dad’s abandonment—it must still hurt.

The room is only silent for a few seconds, but it feels longer, so I swerve the conversation back to music. “Do you know who Patti Smith is, Marcia?”

Marcia looks at me like I’m an alien from Jupiter.

Adam groans. “This ends now.” He opens his phone to his music app, and within seconds, familiar music fills the air. “Have you ever heard this song?”

“Only hundreds of times.” I have the urge to bop my head.Because the Night. “This is Patti Smith?”

“Ding ding ding.” Adam does a perfect imitation of me after he guessed we were going to the Strand. “Although many bands have covered it.”

I duck my head, duly embarrassed, before changing the subject. “Dinner was delicious, as always.”

Adam swallows the last bit of food on his plate and leans back in his chair. “I agree. Will you make your potato pierogies while I’m here, Grams? I haven’t had them in ten years.”

Marcia beams. “It will be my pleasure!”

“And please make extra for me!” I say.

Adam turns to me. “Do you cook?”

To avoid incriminating myself or lying, I counter with, “Do you?”

“No.”

“Me neither.”

This earns a well-deserved chuckle from Marcia, who stacks some dirty dishes and walks them over to the sink.

“My last attempt was congee, which ended up in the garbage, and the time before that…” I can’t remember. “What disaster came before the congee?”

“Honey-glazed salmon,” Marcia says, returning to the table.

“Oh yes. The glaze cooked at a much faster rate than the salmon. It was a disaster.” I shrug sheepishly.

“Nonsense. You made salmon tartare with a lovely burnt-honey sauce.”

As she brings more dirty dishes to the sink, I turn to Adam. “Your grandmother is too kind.”

Adam looks over his shoulder at Marcia, still at the sink. “Relax, Grams. Come sit.”

I scoot my chair back and stand. “I’ll handle the cleanup from here.”

Marcia sits, and while I finish clearing the dishes, Adam returns the butter and horseradish containers to the refrigerator. “Do you have family in the area?” he asks me.

“My mom and sister live in Connecticut.”

“Why Manhattan then?”

“Because it’s the best city in the world. You’ll find out soon enough.” I empty the contents of a plate into the garbage can. “I considered Boston, but my school has a great library science program. Library jobs are hard to come by, and I secured mine before Imoved. I’ve also made new friends here.” Thinking of Carley, I add, “And reconnected with old ones. Given how expensive this city is, I’m so grateful I don’t have to share a pea-size room with fourteen roommates.” I toss a fond glance at Marcia.

She laughs. “Yes. Sabrina showed me some of the roommate ads for apartments here. I can’t believe people live that way,” she says before excusing herself to the bathroom.

Adam sits back down. “Your mom and sister though—do you miss them?”

---