“This one’s cheaper,” Teresa said, finally placing the store brand apple juice into the cart.
“Get whichever one you want,” Nick said. “Don’t worry about the price.”
“You sure?” Teresa frowned, glancing at the cart, which was already full. After couponing her whole life, she was unused to the concept of not needing to tally up costs while she shopped.
“I’m sure.”
“All right,” she said after a prolonged moment. She switched out the apple juices and indicated for Nick to move the cart farther down the aisle.
Nick still hadn’t told her about how much money he had or how he’d gained it. He could tell that Teresa was curious to know how he’d been able to give her money for the apartment security deposit, and how he’d offered to pay for his dad’s physical therapy without question. But Teresa wasn’t Albert. She would observe Nick’s actions instead of asking for an outright explanation.
Keeping this secret is holding you back. I think you should tell them.
Lily’s voice popped into his head then. He hated how they’d left things after their phone call the other night. They’d spoken to each other a few times since, but something was off, and it made him feel off. He didn’t like feeling disconnected from her. Neither of them brought it up, but M&M’s party tomorrow night, and Nick’s refusal to go, was an elephant in the room.
Nick knew that everything Lily said had been right. He was afraid. He was fucking terrified to finally grasp on to the things that he wanted. He’d always thought it would be safer if he managed his expectations. But how could he live a full life that way? He’d thought he’d stopped running from his life by choosing to stay in New York, but really, he’d just been running in place.
The other night, Lily couldn’t understand where Nick had been coming from because when she looked at him, she didn’t think in terms of limitations. She was always thinking the best of him. His own self-perception wasn’t so positive yet, but he could work to improve it. He wanted to be better for Lily. He wanted to be better for himself. He couldn’t let this shit hold him back anymore.
“Mom,” he said, swallowing thickly. He waited until she turned away from the shelf of condiments and gave him her full attention. “I wrote a book. I—the book was sold to a publisher, and that’s how I make a living. I’m an author.”
She looked at him for a moment. “Does that explain all of this?” she asked, gesturing at the nearly overflowing cart.
He nodded. “I didn’t want to tell you or Dad, because I was nervous about what Dad would do once he found out about my new life. I thought he’d find a way to ruin everything.” He breathed deeply and added, “And I was unwilling to accept that something good had happened to me.”
Teresa eyed him closely, taking in what he’d just told her.
“You were always writing in those notebooks of yours every chance you got,” she said. “I remember you loved those Ring Lord books.”
Nick smiled. “Lord of the Rings.”
“Yeah, those.” She took over pushing the cart, and Nick walked beside her. “So, are you going to tell me what your book’s about?”
“Oh yeah, sure,” Nick said, surprised that she wanted to know. He told her the name of his book and his pen name. Her eyes glazed over when he attempted to explain the plot, but he didn’t hold it against her. High fantasy wasn’t everyone’s forte. But she looked at him with renewed interest when he mentioned the television show adaptation.
“When can I watch it?” she asked.
“Not for a while. Years probably.”
“Well, when can I buy a copy of the book?”
“In a couple weeks,” he said. “I’ll send you one.”
“Good.”
She didn’t say anything else as she steered the cart toward the checkout. Nick’s heart rate slowly returned to a normal pace. It was over. He’d told her. He’d built this moment up for so long in his head, and in the end, it had been so much easier than he’d thought it would be. There was still the matter of Albert and how he’d react to the news, but half the battle had been fought.
At the register, the cashier, a young girl with two nose rings and box braids, placed a thick paperback book aside in order to ring them up.
“You like to read?” Teresa asked the cashier, who nodded. “My son’s an author.” Teresa nudged Nick. “Go on. Tell her about your book.”