Page 53 of So Wrong It's Right

“You’re sodifferentfrom each other.”

“Son, that’s why it works.”

“You fought all the time. Maybe you still do.”

“Your father and I are very passionate people. We’re better about communicating now. I know it bothered you when you were a child, and I’m sorry. Children don’t come with a manual. Hell, neither does marriage. And your father is an obstinate fool, of course.” She still gets a goofy grin when talking about my dad. “Lord, that man. Are you having woman troubles?”

I join her on the couch, a sudden need to be near her. To feel comfort from my mother in a way I haven’t in a long time. “I thought I knew what I wanted. But there’s this woman...”

She picks up my hand. “It’s about time.”

“Mom.” She squeezes my hand gently. “I think I ruined it.”

“Tell me about her,” she encourages.

“She’s infuriating. Messy. Erratic. Colorful, dazzling actually. Surprising. Remarkable. Wonderful.”

She laughs. “So why do you think you ruined it?”

“Well, I was myself. Predictable. Plodding. Dull. Colorless. Stella, that’s her name, is so different from me. The way she talks circles and surrounds herself with colorful chaos. And shiny things. Mom, you should see her when something shiny catches her eye. She’s drawn to it. I’m the opposite of shiny.”

“Oh, Christopher. You’ve always been shiny to me.”

“You’re my mother. You’re biased.”

“Probably. You still haven’t told me how you ruined it.”

Her eyes are brilliant with excitement, not compassion. I think she isn’t taking this seriously. Like she thinks she can matchmake me back into Stella’s good graces. “Well, for starters, she broke up with me on the dance floor of her brother’s wedding reception. And I let her. I didn’t try to stop her, even though I know I’m in love with her.”

Her eyes grow round at that admission. “Wow. Did you have a fight? I’m trying to imagine you arguing in public and I just can’t.”

“Well, then you probably won’t believe me when I tell you I was in bar brawl Friday night.”

“What?”

“Some guy said some unflattering things about Stella, so I hit him.”

“Christopher, my word, what’s gotten into you?”

“See? That’s what I mean. Stella brings out a lot of things inside me that I don’t like. But she also makes me feel...”

“Feel what, sweetheart?”

“Everything. She makes me feel everything. Good and bad. I can’t find my equilibrium with her.”

“Is that how you felt about Heather?”

I inhale a shocked breath. Nobody talks about Heather around me. My instinct is to get up, get off this couch, and go workout or run. Anything to get away from this conversation with my mother that we never had. Not once.

But maybe we should.

“I haven’t examined my feelings about Heather. I closed that door and I don’t want to open it again.”

“Christopher, you’re not a coward. Open the door and have a look.”

I close my eyes. Imagine Heather. Pretty. Charming. Intelligent.

Had she ever stirred me the way Stella does? I loved Heather, at least I thought I did. When she broke my heart, it was enough to keep me from opening it again. But did she make me feel the same as I feel about Stella?

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