“I’m going to go home and make my husband dinner.” Natalie studies me for a minute. “I know Gage hurt you, Kate. I can see it. I want you to know that I’ll run interference for as long as it takes but facing pain can be cathartic.”
Or it can be debilitating.
I won’t let Gage’s sudden appearance in my life undo all the strides I’ve made.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Nat.”
“You bet, Katie.” She winks. “I’ll be here bright and early.”
I can’t promise the same.
***
Mom: What’s the what?
I laugh as I read my mom’s text message.
Kate: I’m making dinner.
Her reply is instant, which is surprising since my mom is always telling me texting is her least favorite way to communicate with me. She prefers phone calls or very long emails.
I like text messages because we can get to the point in no time flat.
Mom: Making dinner or putting take-out on a plate?
I look down at the sushi I picked up on my way home.
Kate: Busted.
As she types back a reply, I pop a spicy salmon roll in my mouth. I tap the chopstick on the side of the take-out container as I chew.
Mom: Invite me to NYC and I’ll cook all your favorites. You must miss my meatloaf.
I miss sitting on the wooden stool in her kitchen watching her make it. It was our regular Wednesday afternoon routine when I was in grade school. I’d do my homework by the table and she’d gather together all the ingredients for the best meatloaf I’ve ever had.
Kate: I miss the meatloaf and you.
I know my mom. Her eyes are misting with tears as she reads the text message I just sent.
Both of her kids have set out to live their own lives. My older brother, Eldred, and his wife settled in California. They’re a two-hour drive from my folks’ house. I’m a five-hour plane ride away.
Mom: Say the word and I’ll buy a ticket for the meatloaf and me.
My mom would know exactly what I should do about Gage. She’d coach me through all of it, but I’m not the same twenty-two-year-old woman who was left by her fiancé just days before their wedding.
I can do this. I need to do this on my own.
Taking a sip of lemon water, my gaze drops when another text message pops up on the screen of my phone.
Mom: I’m there if you need me.
I smile at the offer.
Kate: I always need you, but let’s save the trip for your birthday.
It’s months away and by then, I’ll have put my past with Gage to rest and my mom will never have to know that he stumbled back into my life.
Our break-up was hard on me, but I saw the impact it had on my parents.