I thought you would say that. Your father is at the hospital all day. Thought we could get lunch.
I had so much shit to do, but I would never say no to my mother, especially when my only excuse was working. If she knew I was doing something fun, she wouldn’t ask me. But the only person I wanted to do fun things with was with her daughter on the weekends. Sure. Tell me where to meet you.
Whenever my dad wasn’t around, we always went to hole-in-the-wall kind of places so we didn’t have to accommodate his pickiness. She picked a sandwich shop, and she always picked because I let her.
We sat across from each other in the booth and ate while we caught up on life. She told me it was about to get really busy because of the holidays, so she would have to decorate most of the penthouses to the level of a magazine photo. “What’s going on with you?”
“I finished my rocket prototype and sent it to the appliance team so they can build it.”
“Great. So, what are you working on now?”
“The new rover for Mars. It’s hard for me to start a new project when I don’t have closure on the first one.”
“I’m sure it’s fine, Derek.”
“Won’t know until we test it. And even then, there’s always that risk.”
“You’re doing the best you can. And I’m sure the best you can is literally the best.”
I didn’t take her praise seriously because she was biased. I could do no wrong in her eyes.
“And how are things with Emerson?”
“Good.” She was the light of my life, despite the tense run-in with her mother.
“Is that all you’re going to give me?” she asked. “Come on, we adore her. We want to hear about her life as much as yours.” She wrapped up the other half of her sandwich and then opened her bag of chips.
Now that I had a serious woman in my life, my parents were even more involved, probably because they wanted me to get married and give them grandchildren, to have a finite ending to my story. “She met Ryan and Camille the other night.”
“Oh good. How did that go?”
“Well. They loved her.”
“Of course they did. What’s not to love?” She smiled then kept eating.
“Ryan and Camille are engaged.”
“Aww, that’s so wonderful. They aren’t even high school sweethearts. They’re like first-grade sweethearts.”
“Yes, I’m happy for them.”
“Will there be a wedding?”
“Yes, in the next few months.”
She nodded and kept eating. There was a long pause, like she was taking her time before she asked her next question. “Other classmates will be there, you think…?”
I knew exactly what she was asking. “Unfortunately.”
“And are you okay with that?”
“It’s their wedding. They can have whoever they want there.” I wasn’t bitter or offended by it. My beef with Kevin should have no effect on their relationship with him. They didn’t talk to Tabitha for a while, but their friendship was rekindled through mutual friends.
“Are you in the wedding?”
“Best man.”
She smiled. “That’s cute. You’ll look so good in a tux.”
“I look good in anything, Mom.”
“You do.” She continued to eat her chips. “Did you tell Emerson about all that?” She was careful not to use specific names in case it set me off.
I shook my head.
“Maybe you should—”
“Mom.” We’d reached my limit, and the conversation would go no further.
She dropped it.
“I have to do a book signing next week, and I’m dreading it.”
“You do?” she asked happily. “Where?”
“In Times Square.”
“At the Parchment Bookstore?”
I nodded.
“That’s so exciting. Your father and I will come down.”
Of course they would.
“Why are you dreading it?”
“I’m not good at those sorts of things.”
“It seems like you’re getting better because of her.”
I was getting better at everything because of her. She pushed me to be a man I thought I was incapable of being. “Yes…because of her.”
She gave a slight smile and continued to eat.
I picked up the other half of my sandwich and took a few bites. It was quiet for a while.
“How’s her daughter?”
“I haven’t met her.”
“I know, but what does she say about her?”
I chewed my next bite before I answered. “She said she’s struggling in school, mainly math.”
“I know how that is.” She chuckled to herself.
“I feel like a very small number of teachers in public school are there for the right reasons and aren’t just taking the job because of the pension and summers off. It affects the students, and I feel like that’s what’s happening to Lizzie. Every student learns differently, but they’re only taught in one way. Learning skills is not correlated to intelligence. It’s correlated to the type of teaching. If we understood that better, everyone would have the same skill set coming out of school.”
She nodded. “Maybe you should help her out, Derek.”
I stilled at the comment. “Me?”
“Why not?”