Page 90 of Grave Misgivings
She took care of him.
For ten years.
Because Ileft.
My mother slides her arm in mine as she pulls me toward the front porch.
“I’m sorry about earlier, baby,” she says softly as I follow her, Katy’s laughter echoing in the room.
I turn to see Zeb with his acoustic, and my dad laughs.
We stop on his front porch, the music wafting out from the living room. He’s playing another cover. Lady Gaga. Sounds likeHold My Hand.
Katy sings along, and Zeb joins in.
“I know,” I say softly as I sit on the porch swing.
She settles next to me. “I just want you to be happy, Geo.” Her voice is barely a whisper. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
I lean my arms over my knees, staring at the ground. She makes it sound so simple. Like the ends justify the means.
But they don’t.
“Zeb, too, you know,” she says carefully.
I turn to look at her. “What?”
“He’s a good kid. Shame he’s gay, because he would have made an impeccable husband.” She sighs. “But I suppose he’ll make some deservingmanvery happy someday.”
Her words are heavy in the air.
She knows he’s gay?
And she’s supportive of it?
She rocks us back and forth.
“It’s not that simple mom.” I sigh.
“You took your ring off.” She runs her fingers over the empty spot.
Shit, I’d forgot to put it back on.
“Just forgot to put it back on.” It’s not a complete lie. I look away from her, ready for the judgment, but it doesn’t come.
She turns my face to look at her, and the look in her eyes is so full of love it’s hard not to react.
“It has always been a choice, baby,” she says softly. “It was never meant to be a punishment.”
I run my fingers over the barren spot. “It felt like punishment,” I declare softly.
The memories of my youth, of my father’s talk, of all the fights about my girlfriends, staying out past curfew, the chaperones at events... all of it comes back and lodges a knot in my stomach.
She holds me close. “We all make mistakes, baby.”
I see the tears in her eyes, and I don’t have it in me to be angry at her. I know I need to forgive her, and I need to forgive myself, too.
“Whoever it is, I hope they know you are a gift,” she says. Her words are shaky, and I realize all at once, perhaps she isn’t as oblivious as she appears.
