I whispered to her, low so that my dad couldn’t hear. “I’m so sorry, that wasn’t acceptable at all. I’m going to talk to her.”
Leaving Muriel with a glass of sweet tea, my dad, and the TV for company, I headed to the basement where I found my mom and discovered that it is possible to iron with ferocity.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“Wrong? Nothing, darling. This darn ironing does not do itself and it has been piling up, and—”
I placed my hand on the iron, holding it still before she could grab it and burn another pair of dad’s pants.
“Mom. You aren’t subtle. What is it about Muriel that gets you so riled up?”
She looked up, and I noticed the dark, doubtful look she gave me was exactly the same as I see in the mirror every day. It freaked me out a little, though I couldn’t put a finger on why.
“She’s not right for you.”
“Right for me?” I scowled and threw my hands in the air in frustration. “We’re just friends. We’ve always been just friends!” I shouted, feeling only slightly guilty.
It wasn’t technically a lie; if Muriel can call us ‘complicated,’ I can call us friends. And anyway, for the majority of the time my mom had known her, we were exactly that and nothing more.
“I’ve seen the way you look at her.” My mom finally dropped the wrinkled garment she was holding back into the basket and the pretense of ironing. “And I’ll never forget the way she used to look at Cameron. She always liked him, not you. You didn’t see it, and I never had the heart to tell you. But it’s about time you realized before you make a fool of yourself and get your heart broken.”
I closed my eyes tight and pinched the bridge of my nose. It had been a long day, and the last thing I needed was my mother stating aloud my greatest fear.
“It’s not like that, Mom.”
“You think I don’t know my own son? You’re crazy about her. Look, she uses you because you’re so close to Cameron. I know the type of girl she is, believe me.”
My brain felt like it was throbbing against my skull.
My mom didn’t know about my arrangement with Cameron and our preferences. That was only because Cameron and I had never gotten serious enough with anyone to make it worthwhile telling folks about it. I’d gladly explain everything to my parents if I had a relationship that was going to last more than a couple of months. But if Mom was already sure that Muriel was only using me to get to Cameron, explaining we were a threesome would only deepen her conviction, and she would keep touching that open nerve of mine for the rest of my life.
“Please believe me, you don’t know what you’re talking about. She’s not using me; she would never treat anyone badly. She’s a kind, honest and funny person, and I know you two would hit it off if you just gave her a chance.”
“She’s no good.” Mom shook her head.
She was unmoveable, and I was done.
No matter how much I adored my mom, I couldn’t listen to her bad mouth Muriel anymore. I was too mad to speak, so I just turned and headed back up the stairs, desperate to get out of this place instead of listening to poisoned words.
“Muriel, are you ready to go?”
“We’re watching football,” she replied.
I walked through the kitchen to find her sitting on the couch with my dad watching someone play someone else. I knew nothing about sports and didn’t care to, but seeing Muriel chatting easily to my dad about the game was like balm for my soul. At least they were able to get along.
Perhaps he could talk Mom around, I thought briefly, before laughing bitterly to myself. Mom was so headstrong, and Dad so chill that he probably couldn’t convince her the Pope was Catholic if she was in the mood to deny it.
“It’s getting kind of late; don’t you want to visit your parents?”
She gave me a curious look. “Why? Do you want to come and see them too?”
I shrugged. “Sure. My mom’s not in the entertaining mood, and there’s only so long I can watch folks running around with a ball before I start wanting to scratch my own eyes out, so I might as well tag along. If you don’t mind, of course.”
“Not at all.” Muriel jumped up from the couch and gave my dad a friendly squeeze on the shoulder. “Bye, Mr. Davis.”
“See you soon, Muriel.”
As she left the room, Dad gave me a thumbs up that made me smile despite myself.
I didn’t bother saying goodbye to my mom, and of course, she didn’t come up to wave us off, so we just climbed back into Muriel’s car and drove away.