Without You

Chapter Eight

 I'm sitting in my backyard on a cushiony lounge chair. Once I'm done applying my sunscreen, I lay out in the sun in my new bikini, book in hand. I pour into the pages of Emma, my mom's favourite book.

She practically shoved the book in my hands earlier today.

My mom was a huge fan of all the classics. The Catcher in the Rye, 1984, The Great Gatsby, Jane Eyre, Dracula, Frankenstein, To Kill A Mockingbird. She read all of them.

But most of all, she loved Jane Austen. She's read all of her books like twenty times since she was little. Mom was always a hopeless romantic. She would tell the story about how her, and dad met all the time.

Mom went to college at the University of Illinois for English literature. She was a woman with aspirations. Mom was determined to be at the top of her class. But so was dad.

Dad was just as ambitious, maybe even more so.

They were both in the same English Lit class. And they did not like each other. They would compete to answer questions, and show up hours before the lecture to speak with the professor about the course material. It was insane.

All of that changed when they were partnered up for a project. They were forced to spend hours, and hours together. Mom, and dad would be the last people to leave the library. It was like a flip switched. They realised how much they had in common, and how much they really admired each other.

I think that was the moment they fell in love.

The course had ended, and then they lost contact with each other. Until they both went to the same college party. They both got so drunk, and finally kissed each other.

On a trip to Austria, dad proposed to mom at the Admont Abbey Library. It was a spontaneous moment. He made a ring out of a page of one of his books, and proposed to her.

They were so happy back then. Things changed so much in the past few years.

"Jane! Your friend is here," mom calls out.

I put my book down, and hurry to the door. I didn't think Laurie would come over today.

Mom looks at my attire, and gives me a disappointed look. "Put this on," she orders, shoving a cardigan in my hands. Mom knit it a few months ago when she was in her knitting phase. She never seemed to master it, because one of the arms is significantly shorter than the other, and she ran out of yarn, so she thought it would be cute to use a whole bunch of different colours.

I go to open the door. "Your friend is cute," mom comments, raising her eyebrows, and taking a sip of her tea. "Or are you more than friends?" she asks, interested.

"Huh?" I say. "Okay, mom stop lurking!" I yell, and she nonchalantly goes back into the kitchen.

I open the door, coming face to face with Oscar. He's wearing a basic tee, and jean shorts. "Uh, hi," I say, wrapping the cardigan around me. What is Oscar doing here?

He smiles at me, noticing my bikini. "I came to see you," he says. "Want to hang out?" he asks.

I can hear my mom squeal from inside the house. She's way too invested in my love life. Not that I really have one. "Yeah, sure," I say. "Where do you want to go?" I ask, one hand on the door.

Oscar shifts on his feet. "I was thinking we could go to the beach."

"That sounds fun," I reply. "Just give me one sec." I close the door halfway, and walk toward where my mom is discreetly sitting on our kitchen island.

"The beach," my mom says. "With a boy," she teases.

"I can go?" I ask.

"Of course you can," she says. "Have fun."

As I walk back to the doorway, I tell her, "I think you're more excited about this than me. It's not like I haven't been to the beach with a boy before."

"Patrick, and Max don't count," she sings. "They're more like brothers to you."

I feel a bit uncomfortable thinking about that. Just before I run out the door, I throw mom's hideous cardigan on the couch.