Page 65 of Love Marks
“Thanks for tonight. I had fun. Ben is pretty funny.”
“You should see him in court. He’s like that but worse.” I shake my head with a small chuckle. “Luna’s a chip off the old block, for sure.”
The taxi honks, and she glances over at the sound, startled.
“Coming!” She starts towards the car and glances back at me. “Goodnight, Wesley.”
She’s still smiling softly, a twinkle of laughter in her eye. I can’t stop thinking about it as she climbs into the back of the cab.
I spend the rest of the night thinking about that smile.
Chapter 28
Quinn
I haven’t seen Wesley since dinner with his brother earlier this week. He’s hardly been home and the last two dinners have sat on the counter, uneaten. Yesterday I found a note on the counter in his neat handwriting:
New development has me crazy busy - sorry. Don't worry about dinners for the rest of the week.
I tried not to take it personally. Obviously, he’s busy with work. He’s a busy guy, running his own company and everything. I don’t know why his absence makes me insecure — like he’ll decide he doesn’t need me anymore in the few days since we've last spoken.
Today is my day off and I’m taking mom in for her chemo treatment. Joe is coming with us this time. My mom’s been going over to his apartment much more often these days. She insists it’s casual, but I know her better than she thinks.
Joe’s brother’s treatments are finished and he’s in remission. He invited mom and I to a celebration at his brother’s house in Long Island this weekend. Mom basically begged me to come — I think she’s nervous about meeting his family.
When we get to Brooklyn Presbyterian, we go straight to the treatment center. Joe holds my mom’s hand the entire time. She doesn’t look great. I know that she’s trying to stay strong, but it’s impossible to ignore the gaunt, hollow shape that her face has taken on or the way she trembles slightly with every step.
On our way upstairs, we run into Miss Perky because of course we do. I swear the woman arranges her workday around how to best annoy me.
“Hey team,” she greets us with a wide smile. “How are you feeling today?”
“I’m alright.” My mom tries a smile, but it looks weak on her frail face. “This is my boyfriend, Joe.”
I keep my face neutral at the B-word that comes out of my mom’s mouth. Last time we talked, she told me they were keeping things casual. Now he’s her boyfriend? Why wouldn’t she tell me that? She’ll mention it to freaking Perky before telling me?
Perky and Joe shake hands and we ride up in silence, my thoughts wandering to the stack of bills hiding in our kitchen drawer. I’ve tried not to let mom see how they’re piling up —she doesn’t need anything else to worry about — but they’re hanging over my head like a guillotine. Perky's current expression of pity reminds me that I’m not the only one thinking about it.
We get to the treatment center and the nurse sets up my mom at her station while Joe and I sit on the sidelines, unsure what to do with ourselves.
Joe turns to me. “So, Quinn, your mom tells me you’ve been struggling at work? Bad boss and all?”
“It’s gotten a lot better,” I say. “I get to cook in his massive kitchen, which is pretty cool.”
“Someday I’m sure you’ll have a massive kitchen of your own.” He smiles, genuine and surprisingly warm. “Your mom told me about your restaurant idea.”
“Oh, yeah, it’s kind of silly.”
Joe blinks, studying me. “Why do you say that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I shift, feeling self-conscious. “I just mean it’s kind of a long shot.”
He hums a little in response, not agreeing or disagreeing. My mom calls for him so he goes over to her and wraps his hand in hers, leaning his head in close to hers. I watch as she closes her eyes and rests her forehead against his. It’s an intimate moment that I find myself looking away from.
I suppress the feeling bubbling within me — a sense of being left out. The third wheel. With Joe here, it almost feels like my mom doesn’t really need me. The thought sends a painful jolt through my spine.
I guess for so long it’s just been me and mom. Us against the world. It was hard, but we leaned on each other. It’s hard to imagine a world in which we find new people to lean on. I’m happy for my mom, I really am. She deserves this more than anyone. I still remember the weeks after my dad left — how she refused to get out of bed. All she could do was cry. Despite my own feelings of loss, I’d been the one to nurse her back to normal, to get her back on her feet.
In all my preparing for the possibility that I might not have my mom, I never prepared for a future in which she makes it out and I still don’t have her. One where she doesn’t need me anymore. As I watch Joe stroke her hair lovingly, my stomach bottoms out with a childish and cruel jealousy. What happens when she doesn’t need me anymore? What happens when nobody — not my mom, not Wesley — really needs me at all?