As my eyes track up toward her face, noticing the tears welling in her lashes, I’m ambushed by guilt. She quickly blinks them away as her jaw clenches and she looks away.
“Mom, sit down.”
She’s restless, clearly not wanting to settle, almost like if she does then she’ll really break. I notice as I get older how much my mother resembles a cornered animal, anxious and aggressive because it’s her only option left.
After a few minutes, she finally gives in and takes the seat in the chair next to my bed. I sit up a little straighter to look at her.
“The man who attacked me wasn’t a member of the club,” I say, but when I see her starting to argue already, I hold up a hand. “I know you think that place is terrible, but that’s only because you’ve never been there. You don’t understand it.”
“I’m never going there,” she bites back.
“That’s fine. You don’t have to, but just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it as bad and evil as you think it is.”
She’s studying my face now, looking at me as if I'm a stranger. And I guess in some way, I am. My mother is realizing at this moment that I’m not a kid anymore. I’m a man with my own life that she knows nothing about. And she never will.
“I don’t think I can ever change your mind about Dad or the club or…me. But I don’t want you to push me away, too, just because I live the same lifestyle as him.”
At the word lifestyle her eyes widen, but she quickly shuts it down, hiding her shock as she takes my hand. “I would never push you away. I just want you to be safe.”
“I am safe, Mom,” I reply, and it’s clear she doesn’t quite agree by the way her lips tighten into a thin line, but at least she doesn’t reply. It’s a miracle—my mom learned to listen without arguing. “I’m also happy,” I continue, “a lot happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Because of this new girlfriend…” she adds, lifting her brow and giving me a questioning glance.
An unexpected smile creeps across my mouth. I never really talk about my girlfriends much with my mom, especially this one.
“Yes, because of her.”
“I’ve met her, you know,” she adds, and I force myself to swallow down how weird that is. “And I still think she’s too old for you…”
“But…？” I ask, hoping there’s a but coming.
She looks down at her hands as she shrugs. “But she’s nice.”
I bite my lip as my smile grows. If only my mom knew just how nice Maggie is, especially when she was turning my ass red with that riding crop. “Yeah, she is nice.”
“I think she could be good for you. Maybe help you get a good job so you can finally get a place of your own.” She’s joking with me about still living in her house at twenty-two, and I wish I could laugh but I’m suddenly reminded that I’m moving out of state next week and my mother should know that by now, but she doesn’t.
I reach for her hand, and when she sees my smile fade, hers does too. “Mom, I have to tell you something.”
She rests her fingers in my hand, and I give them a comforting squeeze. “Maggie is going to Phoenix in a few days to open the new club they bought there.”
My mother’s brow pinches inward as she waits for me to elaborate.
“And I’m going with her. To stay.”
The expression melts off her face, and I’m pierced by shame that I’m bringing my mother so much pain. I don’t say anything for a few minutes as she contemplates this news, her eyes dancing from my face to a blank spot against the wall and back.