In My Rearview Mirror, JACK.HUGHES

THIRTY NINE

My mother's face lights up with what appears to be genuine delight at the news, her eyes sparkling with a newfound sense of approval. "Well, that's wonderful to hear," she says, her voice laced with satisfaction as she takes a sip of her coffee.

Jack, to his credit, musters up a forced smile, playing along with the charade despite the discomfort etched into every line of his expression. "Yeah, we are," he affirms, his voice tight with tension as he meets my mother's gaze with a flicker of resignation in his eyes.

I offer them both a strained smile, my stomach churning with guilt and unease at the web of lies we've spun. But for now, the facade holds, and we sit in uneasy silence, each of us grappling with our own inner turmoil beneath the veneer of false smiles and polite conversation.

The waitress's interruption breaks the tense atmosphere at the table, offering a much-needed reprieve from the awkward conversation. I seize the opportunity to divert attention away from the uncomfortable topic of conversation.

"Yeah, I think we're ready," I say, grateful for the chance to shift the focus to something more mundane.

My mother and Juliette quickly scan the menus, their faces brightening as they discuss their choices. Jack and I exchange a fleeting glance, a silent acknowledgment of the fragile truce we've forged in this awkward situation.

After a few moments of deliberation, we each place our orders, and as the waitress retreats to the kitchen, a tentative sense of normalcy settles over the table.

As I glance around the table at my mother, Juliette, and Jack, each lost in their own thoughts, I can't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over me. Maybe this is just how it's meant to be – awkward, uncomfortable, and riddled with unresolved tension.

I had thought that coming here would be a welcome change from the quiet solitude of my apartment, but now I see that there's no easy way to evade the awkwardness that looms over us like an unwelcome guest. Perhaps there's no escaping it, no matter where we go or what we do. 

"And how your mother," asks my mom. 

As my mother's question floats across the table, landing squarely on Jack, there's this unmistakable shift in the air. I watch as his face lights up, his eyes suddenly alight with memories of his mom, Ellen.

It's funny how life works, you know? How certain people weave in and out of your life, leaving behind these indelible imprints on your heart. My mom and Ellen? They were like two peas in a pod back in the day, way before Jack and I were even a thing.

I can still picture them now, back when my brother and Jack were tearing up the hockey rink together. Those were the days. While the boys were out there battling it out on the ice, my mom and Ellen? They had their own little routine. Shopping trips, hockey games, and let's not forget those Friday nights – wine in hand, huddled under blankets in the stands, cheering on their favorite players.

It's like they had this bond, you know? Something that transcended time and circumstance. And even though life's thrown us all a curveball or two since then, I can still see the echoes of that bond in Jack's eyes when he talks about his mom.

I can't help but feel a swell of admiration for their close bond. His genuine smile speaks volumes, a testament to the strength of their relationship despite the distance that separates them.

"Yeah, she's doing really great," Jack continues, his voice infused with pride. "I saw her not too long ago in Vancouver with Quinn. She's always been one of my biggest supporters, you know? Even now, when my parents are in Michigan full time and I don't get to see them as much, she's still there for me."