Breaking Noah

“It’s okay. I know. You kinda like me,” she says, smirking.

“That I do. We just can’t have that kind of relationship.”

“I’m pretty sure that as two consenting adults, we’re able to make that decision for ourselves. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea to fly a banner that says we want each other, but giving our bodies what they crave…that seems like the most logical thing to do.”

Neither one of us says anything further. She rushes out the door, leaving me alone in my office, wondering if there was any truth to what she said. Can we really make something work?

No. Hell, no. We’re both in other relationships, and the most obvious factor is: I’m her teacher. It’s improper. Immoral. I could be fired for the thought alone. I have to find a way to put a stop to this. Find a way to control myself.

Checking my email before I leave for the day, I notice one from my mother. I debate opening that can of worms, but my curiosity gets the best of me. It’s been two years since she’s contacted me, this ought to be good.

My Dearest Noah,

Hello, son. It’s been a while since we’ve spoken, but I have a request. Your father has been selected by the Alumni Association to receive the Alum of the Year Award. There’s going to be a party in his honor since he’s accepting this evening. They’ve asked if the entire family can attend. Of course, I RSVP’d for all of us. I put you down for a plus-one, so please bring Samantha. We’d love to see her.

I look forward to seeing you, Noah. I truly miss you.

Best,

Gertrude

What kind of mother signs her emails with her name and not Mom, Mommy, or even Mother? And I really love being given next to no notice. I should say no to make her think I have a life, but that would just add ammunition to an already heated war. As much as the idea of spending quality time with Gertrude pains me, I should go and be there for my father. And whoever Samantha is, I’ll bring her, too. I’m sure she means Shannon, but what’s the point of correcting her? It’s just going to go in one ear and out the other.

I type out a quick reply. And by quick, I mean it in the literal sense.

G—

OK.

Noah

I’m going to need another three years of therapy after this visit. Here’s hoping for an open bar and all the whiskey I can drown myself in to get through this night.

I quickly book a hotel room for them, knowing damn well Gertrude will have something snide to say about my apartment and the guest room. They’ve never been to my apartment and I’d like to keep it that way. A decade of your parents fighting like boxing heavyweights has the ability to ruin even the best of memories. Their damn house is tainted, and if I brought them through my front door, there’s a good chance our relationship would be doomed.

On the other hand…

No. Even the sanest of men couldn’t handle that kind of pressure.

—

As soon as I get home, I tell Shannon about our plans to have dinner with my parents. She’s excited. She has no reason not to be. I’ve never told her about the hell that I grew up in, and I never will. That’s my cross to bear.

Shannon rushes through getting ready and I change quickly into a pair of black slacks, a matching collared shirt, and a light blue tie. Shannon steps out of the bathroom looking exquisite after only twenty minutes. Her dark brown hair is pinned high on her head with curls dripping down, lips painted a deep shade of plum that perfectly matches her knee-length dress. When she puts on her silver heels she’s nearly my height of six feet.

“Ready,” she says, obviously proud of herself. I pull her waist-length jacket from the closet and offer it to her. After she slips her arms inside, I grab the keys and we’re out the door and driving the few miles to the Northwestern University Alumni Association dinner.

As soon as we step into the banquet facility, we see my parents at the coat check. I try to avoid eye contact, silently begging for a few more moments of peace, but my mother spots me almost immediately.

“Noah. Darling,” she says with her fake southern accent. I mean, seriously, she was raised near Chicago and has never left Illinois in her entire life. There’s no reason she should sound like she’s from the heart of Alabama.

“Mother,” I respond, my tone cool and unimpressed. “You remember Shannon.”

“I do, sweetheart.” Gertrude turns her attention from me to my date, taking her hands and holding them out wide. “You look stunning. Absolutely beautiful.” Then the focus is back on me. I should have known it was coming. “You need to make an honest woman out of this girl, Noah. Didn’t we raise you with any manners?”

“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question,” I mutter under my breath, gaining me a chuckle from my father. “Dad, it’s good to see you.” I put my hand out for a shake, but he declines, pulling me in for a hug.

“I’ve missed you, son. I know your mother’s a bit of a flake, but don’t forget about your old man, all right?”