Unlocking the front door, I hoped no one was home. My dad usually spent most of the day at the distillery. My mom usually spent most of the day doing…stuff? She was usually trying to immortalize herself with the latest fundraising effort to save something or other. Whatever would get her on the front pages of the community paper.
“Tristan, is that you?” my mom’s voice called out from the kitchen.
I briefly thought about quietly backing out of the door and letting her think the wind opened it or they were being robbed. Anything but knowing I was here. Coming back here to get the rest of my things without calling suddenly seemed like a terrible idea. I knew very well she’d try and pick up from where we left our last conversation.
Resigned to the situation at hand, I figured I would just man up and plow forward.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I said, heading for the kitchen. “Hi, Mom.”
She was dressed like she had somewhere to be in a bright pink, sleeveless, button up dress. Her blonde hair looked freshly cut–and colored–and she had clearly been spending a lot of time in the gym over the winter. My mom was obsessed with keeping her good looks. She had trainers, stylists, and people who injected chemicals into her face.
“Is everything okay?” She took a sip of her coffee and immediately got a mug from the cabinet for me without asking if I’d actually like any.
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she continued, without waiting for my response. She handed me the steaming mug. It looked to be the same temperature as it was outside and I couldn’t even stomach the idea of drinking, so I set it on the counter. “I was going to give you a call. I haven’t seen you and Shiloh in a few days and was hoping you two would come over for dinner tonight. I've been busy myself these past few days. Did you hear about what I'm doing for the grand old Crosby building?”
The Crosby building was a huge monument in the middle of town. Initially, it was a big carpet warehouse run by the Crosby brothers, but after most of the houses in town had been built and carpet demand lessened, the Crosby's had sold the building back to the town. As a parting gift to the town, they renovated it so it had a commercial kitchen and was able to host various events. It had been well used but had fallen into disrepair and badly needed maintenance. More like a total overhaul.
Mom and Dad could have easily paid for all of it, but somehow this gave my mom purpose. She had never asked me and so I stayed out of it. She needed to keep busy.
"We are halfway to the goal of refurbishment. I'm scouring the community and I was wondering if it's too much for me to rename the building the 'Rebecca Adler' building after all is said and done. What do you think?" She smiled as if she was getting her photo taken for the paper.
I tried not to roll my eyes too visibly.
Sensing my unwillingness to answer, Mom brushed some imaginary crumbs off the front of her dress and continued. "So, what about it then? Will you and Shiloh come for dinner?"
Her eyes were pleading, and I couldn’t resist.
“Sure, we can do that, Mom. But we’ll be coming with Gram and Pop.” I knew she wouldn’t be up for that idea. My mom avoided her in-laws like she did carbohydrates and it was, quite frankly, a brilliant way of getting out of dinner.
“I was really hoping to just get some one-on-one time with my son and granddaughter.”
I hated it when she acted like my grandparents weren’t an integral part of our family.
“How about you and Dad come over? It would be nice to host you, and I’d be more than happy to make dinner.”
“Are you still upset from our last conversation we had about your divorce,” she said, bringing up the topic I had hoped she’d stay away from.
“Mom, this has nothing to do with my divorce. Why does everything always circle back to that? I came back here to clear my head, but all you seem to want to do is talk about me and Regina.”
I tried to control the anger bubbling inside of me and gripped the cold granite countertop tightly to calm down.
“As your mother, I want what’s best for you.”
“I’m not a child anymore, Mom. I know what I want and what’s best for me. And I’m telling you, I don’t want to be with Regina. Regina doesn’t want to be with me. Neither of us wants to be married to each other. We're both moving on. You and Dad are the only ones who haven’t moved on and it’s making things harder for me and Shiloh.”
I needed to go get my things and get out of here before this argument got too heated.
“Okay, let’s both take a deep breath,” she said, breathing deeply, as if that would actually help. “I don’t want to fight with you, Tristan. I love you and I want nothing more than to see you happy.”
She put both of her hands on my shoulders and it did help me calm down a little, but I was still frustrated with her lack of empathy.
“Regina mentioned she was going to be joining you later this summer. I am glad you two are putting your differences aside for Shiloh,” she said with a smile of approval.
The look on my face must have given away my frustration that my mom was still in contact with Regina.
“I know it bothers you that I still talk to her," she said. “But I’m just trying to be fair. She’s still Shiloh’s mother and she will always be like a daughter to me.”
“Can we just not talk about Regina? I’m just here to get the rest of our things.”