Unfortunately, now he was paying the price for his fantastic night.
After kissing Maggie goodbye, he’d collected his mother from her room, and from that point on, she had been giving him the quintessential cold shoulder. She looked exhausted, but more than that, furious.
He brought her slowly back to the car, carrying the luggage. She was silent. Now, they were nearly to Fool’s Falls, and she was still silent. It had been over two hours. She’d never been that quiet with him in her life unless she was sleeping.
“I’m guessing you’re angry,” he said, deciding to simply lance the conversational boil.
“Don’t talk to me.”
“What happened was not my fault,” he pointed out. “You told me I needed to bring a date to the wedding—”
“I meant Deb!”
“Do you honestly think that Sheryl would’ve treated Deb differently?” he asked. “This is Sheryl’s fault. Maggie and I were being—”
“Maggie,” his mother said, her voice dripping with venom. “That woman! Causing a scene!”
“Maggie caused a scene?” he echoed. “Did you not remember Sheryl saying that I’m gay—incorrectly, I might add, not that she seems to understand that? Or dragging up all that stuff from the past? How is any of that Maggie’s fault?”
“Sheryl shouldn’t have said anything either,” his mother conceded, after a long pause. “But that Maggie was just throwing gasoline on a fire. And it’s not like Sheryl was lying, was it?”
“For fuck’s . . .” He gripped the steering wheel, forcing himself to count to ten. “My point is, Sheryl’s the one with the problem. I could’ve brought the most Instagram-perfect woman on the face of the earth, and Sheryl would’ve still given me shit and tried to ruin it!”
“You didn’t cuss half this much before you met Maggie.” He glanced over to see his mother crossing her arms, scowling so hard it had to hurt her face. “Deb wouldn’t have caused this kind of trouble. Sheryl would’ve understood her. They’re . . . you know, the same kind of woman!”
Now his eyes narrowed. “Mom,” he asked carefully. “Is this because Maggie’s Asian?”
“What! No!” Her voice was shrill. Defensive. “I’m not racist!”
“Good.” His voice, in comparison, was cold and laced with doubt.
“But Deb goes to church, like Sheryl does. Deb has the same, you know, values as Sheryl. Deb knew Sheryl in school, was just a year behind, you know! They would have been friendly!”
“That would’ve made Sheryl even angrier. She’d wonder why I could be with Deb, and not make it work with her. She’d definitely have spilled the beans on my past anyway . . . which, incidentally, I’m realizing I’m sick of hiding.”
“Don’t,” his mother breathed. “Don’t you dare.”
“Don’t what, Mom?” he said. “Don’t tell people I’m bi? Don’t let anyone know I was in a relationship with a man in college? For God’s sake, Mom, I’m fifty years old and I’m still in the closet!”
“Deb is never going to date you if she finds out!” She sounded reedy, a bit desperate. “Don’t you understand? No one will! She’ll tell everyone. The church group, her book club . . . oh, God, she knows everyone . . .”
“I don’t fucking want to date Deb!” he roared. “I want to be with Maggie!”
The car was quiet for a second, except for the low hum of the radio, playing some old country songs . . . Patsy Cline, maybe. It sounded hollow and twangy and sad.
“You’re supposedly gay,” his mother finally said. “You said Maggie was a friend of yours, doing you a favor. She knows that you were with a man, and somehow . . . she’s fine with this? And now I’m supposed to believe that you’re ‘dating’ this woman?”
“We didn’t start officially until last night,” he admitted. At least, I hope that’s where we’re going. “She was going to just help me, true. But we both realized we can have something more.”
“I don’t understand this.” His mother crossed her arms. “I don’t like her.”
“You,” he said, through gritted teeth, “don’t need to. I like her.”
Another long silence.
“This isn’t up for discussion,” he added. “My relationship with Maggie isn’t something I need to justify or debate.”
“Relationship,” she scoffed.
He huffed out a long sigh. “The wedding’s over, Ma. And I’m sorry that it didn’t go the way you wanted, but let’s face it: it was never going to go the way you wanted. If I’m in the same room with Sheryl, it’s going to be a nuclear train wreck. She hates me, and she’s always going to hate me.”
“Whose fault is that?” his mother yelled.
“Hers!” Aiden snapped back. “Because being bi is not a fucking crime!”
“Watch your mouth!” He wasn’t sure what she was more pissed at—the f-bomb or the term “bi.” “You broke Sheryl’s heart. I was so grateful that she finally found happiness with Davy after what you did.”
“I didn’t do . . . !”
Aiden gritted his teeth. This was futile. And maddening. And heartbreaking. He could keep going, but what was the point?
The worst part was, Maggie was right. He’d bought into Sheryl and his mother’s argument for years, like it had been his fault for “disappointing” Sheryl . . . by being who he was. By finally telling her the truth.
“It’s over,” he reiterated.
Her anger was a tangible thing, emanating from her like microwaves. He sighed.
“Are you going to Davy’s for Christmas?” He, himself, wasn’t welcome, but he knew his mother would like to see her grandchildren.
She made a little noise that he took as assent.
“I’ll have him pick you up,” he said slowly, his brain working out logistics. “When he brings you back . . . the three of us will discuss the legal stuff: power of attorney, advanced directives. And we’ll talk about your driving.”
“I’m not going to discuss a goddamned thing with you.”
He shot a shocked glance at her . . . although really, how surprised should he have been? “We had a deal,” he reminded her. “I bring a date to the wedding, and you agree to talk about this stuff. I held up my end of the bargain.”
“You didn’t bring a date. You dragged a woman you barely know and caused a scandal. I don’t owe you anything!” She let out a long, frustrated exhalation. “If you had just kept your mouth shut and settled down with Deb, this would be different. I’d give up driving, even! Do whatever goddamned paperwork you wanted. But you just couldn’t do that!”
“Settled down?” He looked over at her, appalled. “You have got to be kidding. You can’t . . . you think this is something I’d bargain with? That I’d just keep lying about who I am, and, what, marry someone I don’t love, so you’ll do the right thing? Are you insane?”