There was a knock and I didn’t bother to brace myself, but when Sam’s mother came through the door I was relieved and I couldn’t pretend I wasn’t.
“Happy New Year,” Betty said and Sam, Wes, and I rushed to hug her and take her coat and Penny took the cake she’d baked.
“It’s not that gingerbread,” Betty assured me. “Just chocolate.”
“It’s perfect,” I said.
“Champagne?” Wes asked Betty, and she shrugged with a coy smile. She wore a fancy sweatshirt that said PARTY in rainbow sequins.
“One won’t hurt.”
And then it was Sam and Betty and me standing in the hallway. “So?” She blinked at us from behind her glasses. “You two have something to tell me? A late Christmas present, maybe?”
“Mom,” Sam said, rebuked.
“I love him so much,” I blurted, and Betty’s eyebrows lifted. “I have for so long.”
“I know,” she said, squeezing my shoulder.
“I love her, too. For just as long,” Sam said.
“I know,” Betty said with a nod. “I’m just glad you two have finally figured it out. Have you talked? Really talked?”
“Yes,” Sam said. “I told her about the PTSD and the concussion and—”
“He agreed to therapy.”
Betty’s eyebrows went sky high and she let out a sigh so deep it was like she was deflating.
“I’m so glad. I’m so…” She kissed my cheek hard and then kissed her son’s cheek hard. “Damn happy. It’s the best Christmas present a mother could get.”
I felt that doubt I didn’t want to feel about how my own mother would not respond to this news with the same joy. And I hated it. I hated that it bothered me. That it might in any way hurt Sam.
“Come on,” Sam said, putting his arms around both of us. “There’s a cheese tray in here you should meet.”
Back in the kitchen another bottle of champagne was opened and I drank a glass. Maybe too fast—that was debatable.
Joy was explaining the success of her porn ornament line, something W.B. was clearly horrified by, and soon there was another bottle of champagne and even Sam was laughing. Like really laughing. Like bracing himself on my shoulder and laughing, and I hadn’t seen him that easy in so long that it went to my head with the champagne.
“Mom!” Wes cried, and we all turned to see my mother standing in the doorway to the kitchen, wearing a pair of jeans and a frown.
And just like that all the laughter dried up to coughs.
“I don’t mean to interrupt,” she said with a careful smile that did two things to me at the exact same time. Made me feel bad for her and made me tense every single muscle in my body like I was expecting to be punched.
“You’re not.” Penny stepping into the breach was the bravest thing I’d ever seen. “Can I take your coat?”
Mom hesitated, like she wasn’t sure if she was going to stay, but then handed Penny the coat. Joy tried to continue the story about the porn ornaments but the damage had been done. A thick black cloud was all over everything, my mother’s doing.
“Champagne?” Wes asked Mom, and she opened her mouth in that tight way that usually indicated she was about to say something awful. Something mean. But then, to my total shock, she took a breath and smiled.
“I think I should go,” Mom said. “I think, no matter what I do, I don’t do it right.”
She turned for the door, and in the silence she left behind Sam and I looked at each other, and I saw his support no matter which way I went with this. And it gave me the strength to take the high road, after so many years of taking no road when it came to my mother.
“Mom!” I said and chased after her, finding her at the door with Penny handing her her coat.
“Please stay,” Penny was saying, because she, too, was a good egg. “It’s a holiday and we haven’t had much of a chance to know each other.”
“Maybe we can have lunch,” Mom said, brittle and cool.
“Mom. Stay.” I stepped up, feeling Sam at my back. “I haven’t seen you—”
“Whose fault is that?” she snapped and then sighed. “I haven’t gone anywhere. I haven’t done anything. I’ve been here…waiting.”
“Mom,” I breathed and stepped forward. “Let’s change it. Right now. Let’s…change everything. We don’t have to be like this.”
Mom’s eyes went over my shoulder to Sam.
“He’s in my life, Mom,” I said.
“I know. And…I’m glad. And…” Her smile looked a little bit like it might break her face. Like her muscles didn’t work that way. “Sorry. For everything.”
“Forgiven,” Sam said, like it was easy. Like it was all just that easy. I reached back for his hand and he grabbed it. We could do that too. Mom and me.
“Mom,” I said. “If you leave, nothing is going to change. I know it. You know it. But if you stay…”