“I’m not sure what part of ‘I’m taking a break from dating anyone’ you don’t understand.”
She let out a laugh, which sounded more like a maniacal cackle. I wondered how many cups of coffee she’d already had today.
“There’s no way you’re going to go the entire summer and just be by yourself,” she said. “That’s a good one, though.”
“It’s not a joke.”
“That’s like Wade saying he’s going to go a night without a PBR.”
“Don’t compare me to that shitbag.”
“I admire that you are even entertaining an idea like that to begin with, but it’s not going to happen. So, you might as well just let loose and have some fun.”
“You know, I think I’m done with this conversation.” And I was, but at the same time, as irritating as she was, her doubting me simply made my resolve stronger. She’d be highly annoyed to find out, at the end of August, that I had managed to keep my word.
It was somewhat of a relief when the parking lot to The Finery came into view, and right there, my mother’s white Toyota Camry. How that piece of shit was still running was beyond me, but I guess they weren’t lying when they said a Toyota engine will keep running long after the body rusts away—which appeared to be exactly the fate my mother’s car was heading for.
The parking lot itself was mostly empty; there were two cars toward the back, probably belonging to one of the waitresses and the head bartender for the day shift. Hopefully they wouldn’t come out; I didn’t feel like dealing with any of my mother’s co-workers.
“You really should get a new job,” I said as I stepped out of the truck. The parking lot was strewn with crushed cigarette packs and other, various detritus. It looked like a barren wasteland.
“Where? At some convenience store? A gas station? That’s about the only place that’ll hire someone like me.”
“Why don’t you just get a regular job waitressing?” I pulled the jumper cables from the bed of the truck. “Go pop the hood on your car.”
“I don’t get a ‘regular job waitressing,’ as you so put it, because I just don’t think I could stand to be in an environment like that.”
“Like what? Like normal people taking their families out to dinner?”
“Like ... so wholesome. Yes, exactly that! I don’t want to be serving Suzy and her handsome husband and their beautiful children!”
Okay. Clearly that had touched a nerve. “Look, Mom, I’m not trying to give you a hard time, okay? I’m really not. But I know the type of dirtbags that go to a place like this and I just think that after all these years, maybe a change would be good for you.”
“You’re embarrassed by me, aren’t you?” She leaned against the side of my truck, her arms crossed, a glare on her face. “Just like your father was. That’s why he stayed away, you know. Because he couldn’t bear to think that the rest of the world might know he had actually gone to The Finery and fucked one of the dancers there. Not that there should be any shame in that, for Christ’s sake.”
I gritted my teeth and tried to focus on getting her damn car started so I could get the hell out of there. The drama that I was trying to escape from this summer clearly wasn’t just related to the women I hooked up with. I was probably some sort of magnet for this sort of shit just because I’d grown up with a mother like this. But I couldn’t cut her off. I’d thought about it before; I’d considered just not answering my phone when she called, or better yet, changing my number, but there was some part of me that knew I couldn’t do it. At this point, the tables had turned and I felt more like the parental figure in our relationship than she was, but really, it might’ve been like that all along.
“Let’s just drop it, okay?” I said. I made sure both clamps were attached to the Camry’s battery, and then I went back over to my truck and started it. “Try to start your car,” I told her.
It took two tries, but the Camry started. My mother got back out of the car and came over and stood in front of me. “You ever think about him? Your father?”
“Not real
ly,” I lied.
“Me neither. Well, once in a while, maybe. Once in a while I might start thinking what it would be like if we had stayed together. I think that maybe you could’ve had a better upbringing, a different sort of life.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. When it came to my childhood, my mother was either overly sentimental about what could have been, or vehemently delusional about how she did the best she could. There was no in between. But I didn’t feel like consoling her about it. That wasn’t my job.
“You should be good,” I said. “Drive the car around for a little bit, let the battery recharge, but I don’t think it’ll give you any more problems.”
“You really are the best, sweetie; thank you. Now, I just have one more favor to ask: can I borrow 50 bucks? Just until I get paid next week. It would really help out if you had it.”
I’d probably “lent” my mother thousands of dollars over the years; I didn’t keep track of that shit because I knew she’d never pay me back.
“Fine,” I said. “You’re going to have to follow me to the ATM though; I don’t have that much cash on me.”
“You’re a good man,” she said. “Whichever lady you end up with is going to be damn lucky!”