Lesson #3: I hate to admit this, but sometimes your mother…is right. But don’t ever tell my mother I said that.
“Mom do you think this is too much eyeliner?” I asked as my mom watched me from the bathroom doorway. “I was going for smoky eye, but I’m afraid that I have veered into raccoon.”
“You look fine honey,” my mom cajoled rolling her eyes. “It’s just a date.”
“Mother, I have told you a thousand times that this is not just a date. This guy could be your future son in law. You have to take this seriously.” She may have rolled her eyes at me again, but I had just stabbed myself in the eye with my eyeliner pencil and was trying to not cry out in pain.
“Okay, okay. But if this is so important maybe you should call Kelsi to help you out with your makeup.” I frowned not responding to her helpful suggestion. Kelsi and I were still “warring states” for the time being. She refused to apologize to me for her hurtful words about Dylan. “Sweetie I don’t want to minimize you possibly meeting the love of your life so quickly, but maybe you should try to take things a little slower and freak out a little less.”
“I’m not rushing mom,” I pouted as I tried to remove some clumped mascara. “And I’m not freaking out! I just want everything to be perfect!” I stabbed my eye once again with the mascara wand this time and tried not to cry. So maybe I was freaking out a little bit, but she didn’t have to point it out. I really should have called Kelsi for some help. Makeup and I just didn’t get along.
“Honey, first dates are never perfect. It’s all awkward moments and stilted conversation. Why when your father and I—“ she broke off midsentence her tired eyes wide in shock. She had just realized mid thought that she was finally speaking about a man she had purposely avoided discussing my entire life.
“Why don’t you ever talk about him?” I asked giving up on the makeup. I wanted to make it to this date with at least one properly working eye. “What happened between you two to you can never mention him? Did he just one day decide to leave us? Is he dead? In prison? Have a second family? Did you run from him because he was abusive?”
“Run from who?”
“My biological father mom. Tell me something about him for once!”
“You need to finish your makeup.”
“Mom, please—“ I was cut off by the ringing of the doorbell.
“I’ll go get that. You just finish getting ready,” she called racing for the front door. “Don’t want to keep him waiting too long right?” I sighed in frustration facing my reflection in the mirror. Why couldn’t she just tell me something about him? All I wanted was to know some piece of who he was. Did I get my intelligence from him? My determined planning? My stubbornness? I wanted to be able to answer the simple question of where my father was when asked. Even if he was some axe murderer that would be better than some ghost never spoken of in our house.
I heard my mom downstairs happily chatting with Dylan. He was probably charming her with stories about his music producer father. Mom loved her celebrity gossip. Dylan would be a perfect addition to our family. I could picture our future home now with our kids running about. Maybe a dog or two. And mom could live in the gorgeous home next door stopping by to make cookies once a week. Finally my life would be perfect and close to normal. I applied a small amount of lip gloss before making my way downstairs to meet with my destiny.
“I’m so sorry it took me so long to finish getting ready,” I called out walking down the stairs. “I just wanted to make sure everything was perf—Tucker?!?”
“Ruthie you were right,” my mother smiled broadly. “Your young man is just wonderful. He was just telling me all about how he knows Kelsi’s boyfriend Scott.” This could not be happening. There was Tucker sitting on my couch in my home smiling at my mother. Oh dear Lord.
“MY. NAME. IS. RUTH,” I snapped. “And Tucker is NOT my young man. He is an unwanted intruder. What are you doing here, and how did you get my address?!?”
“Nice to see you too,” Tucker grinned settling into the couch as if he lived here. My couch! He needed to leave before Dylan got here. “Kelsi was right. Your mom is wonderful.”
“Leave my mother out of this! You deceived her. Now why are you in MY home without an invitation?”
“I thought we could get some work done on our English project. I know how much you like to get started early on projects.” Then the bastard had the gall to wink at me! I’m going to kill him, I swear.
“Tucker, I have a date. I can’t work on some stupid project right now. And mom stop feeding him cookies!”
“But I like cookies,” Tucker whined. “And just so you know you look like a raccoon. Is Dylan really into wildlife or something?” Mom joined him in a loud guffaw, and I silently contemplated how I was the child when my own mother could be so immature.
“It’s smoky eye,” I hissed.
“Sure it is,” he muttered after giving my face another hard look. “Maybe you should have just cut your losses and painted your face like you are at a sporting event. Just tell him you are really into football.” He started snickering again, and I turned to my mother for support. She merely held back a chuckle as she held out a plate of cookies to him.
“Stop giving my tormentor cookies!” I snapped grabbing the plate from her and sending the cookies flying….onto my head. This was just getting worse.
“It’s just a few cookies, Ruthie,” she replied calmly. “Besides the poor boy looks hungry.”
“NO! From now on you are only allowed to offer cookies to people on an approved list of visitors. I will write one up later, but know that he is NOT EVER allowed!” I shouted. Okay, I might be getting a little hysterical. Tucker tends to do that to me just by breathing.
“Ruthie you don’t get to tell me who is allowed in my home.” Uh oh. Definite disapproving mom tone just then. Why couldn’t she see that he was the problem?
“MY NAME IS RUTH! AND HE IS A COMPLETE LOSER WHO IS GOING TO RUIN MY PERFECT NIGHT!” I screeched.
“Ruthie Ann Jackson!” my mother shouted out making me freeze in place. Mom never yelled. Ever. Even when I was my most obnoxious mom just clucked her tongue. This doesn’t mean I was obnoxious a lot, but I had thrown a few fits so I knew my mom’s regular reaction to my less than stellar moments.
“Mom please,” I begged in a softer tone. “He’s going to mess the whole night up.”
“You will never behave like that towards another person ever again. Especially someone like Tucker after everything he has been through—“my mother broke off when Tucker shook his head warning her off. What in the hell was mom talking about?
“It’s really my fault ma’am,” Tucker calmly replied standing and packing his backpack. “I have gotten the days we promised to meet and work on the project all mixed up. I’m so sorry. I don’t want to ruin Ruthie’s big night.” I nodded mutely wondering why he looked so sad and I felt so bad for kicking him out. He did show up without even asking. So why did I feel like the heel asking him to leave?
“At least let me pack you up some food to take with you,” mom pleaded shooting me a dark glare. “You are so skinny, and a boy like you needs to eat.”
“I’ll be just fine Ms. Jackson,” He said patting her hand as he pulled a tattered book out of his backpack. “I hope you don’t mind, but I picked out our book for the project already.”
“Book for what?’ I asked taking the tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice.
“For the English project,” he prodded.
“I—um—I don’t exactly remember what we are supposed to be doing for the project,” I admitted with a blush. Normally I would have been steps ahead of him, but I guess I had been a little too focused on my date with Dylan.
“It’s okay,” he smiled softly. “I know how busy you are. We have to pick a book and relate it to our lives as teenagers in the modern world in a paper that we have to present to the class.”
“And you chose a romance novel?” I asked wondering why he happened to have a copy that was about to fall to pieces.
“It’s a classic,” he corrected. “Plus we already read it first semester.” I shot him a look waving the beat up volume. “A—and that’s my mum’s copy. I just grabbed it from the bookshelf. Look, can you make it work for your half of the paper or not?”
“I—uh—yeah—sure,” I mumbled setting the book onto the kitchen counter behind me. If anything I would just talk about finding my true love in Dylan like when Lizzy’s sister Jane met Mr. Bingley.
“Well then I am off. Sorry again for interrupting your evening. Good luck with your date.”
“No insult on your way out the door?” I teased trying to cheer up his melancholy spirit. He just seemed so vulnerable and sad right now. Not like Tucker at all.
“Nope,” he smiled softly. “Just good luck. Whether you choose to believe it or not I don’t hate you Ruth. Far from it,” he smiled once more before turning back to the door opening it. He paused for a moment with his hand on the doorknob staring out at our front lawn rather than face me. “Just be safe okay?”
“I’m going to be with Dylan. I’ll be fine Tucker.”
“Yeah—sure,” he stammered rushing out the door and practically taking Dylan out as he left.
“He—he can be so weird sometimes,” I muttered before widening my smile and trying to approach Dylan with my best side facing him. “Dylan welcome! Please come inside.” He scanned me from head to toe as he stepped in and I basked in his adoring gaze. I was pleased that he seemed to approve of my new dress. I had picked it out especially to impress him.
“You will need to change,” he remarked scrunching up his nose in disgust. So maybe I wasn’t as fashion savvy as I thought. Dylan is a model. He would know better than me.
“C—Change?” I stuttered. “What’s wrong with it? Is the dress too much?”
“You look fine. Really. It’s just—the place we are going to have a very strict dress code. Don’t you something classier?” I bit my lip unsure of how to respond. This dress had cost me almost half of my saved allowance. That money was meant to go towards my college tuition.
“I—I’m not sure what you mean.” He sighed heavily annoyed as he marched upstairs like he owned the place. He returned moments later with a dusty wrap that belonged to my mother. Without a single word he neatly folded it around me covering my brand new dress.
“It’s not perfect, but if they ask we can just claim it’s vintage. I’ll have to take you shopping for appropriate attire later on.” He started pushing me to the door.
Wait. Did he say shopping?
A guy who could brush off a smashed eight hundred dollar guitar wanted to take me shopping? Be still my fashion starved heart. I would finally start to have a wardrobe befitting my future lifestyle. I let him drag me to the door until I heard my mom heavily clear her throat.
“Wait,” I called out halting him by the door. “My mom. You haven’t met my mom yet.” I tugged him back around so he was facing her and smiled. “Mom this is Dylan. I told her all about you.”
“Hello ma’am,” he coolly replied pulling out his phone to answer a message. “We really need to get going. We have a reservation Ruth.”
“Why don’t you go out to the car, and she will be right out Dylan,” my mother suggested with the same smile she reserved for the neighbor who let his dog poop on our lawn every morning. “I just want to say goodbye to my baby.” Dylan shrugged and walked out to his car. Mom watched to make sure he was out of earshot before she spoke again. “I don’t like that boy Ruthie. There is just something off about him.”
“He just doesn’t want us to miss our reservation,” I sulked. “Stop being so judgmental.”
“Fine. Just call me if you need anything. I’ll be there in a flash. I promise.” I rolled my eyes and grabbed my purse. I had one foot out our front door when a question floated into my mind halting me.
“Mom what did you mean when you said all that Tucker has been through?”
“I—um,” she started cleaning up the cookie crumbs from my previous fit. “I meant all he went through to bring you that book. Doesn’t he live on the other side of town or something?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I replied walking out. I had made it all the way to the passenger door of Dylan’s revving corvette when she called out to me again.
“Honey I just remembered who Dylan reminds me of,” she shot out with a dark look across her face.
“Who mom?”
“Your father,” she stonily replied slamming the door as I sat down in the car.
“Your dad huh?” Dylan asked with a grin as he gunned the engine once more. “He must be a pretty awesome guy like me right?”
“R—right,” I replied wondering just why my knight in shining armor reminded my mother about a man she refused to ever speak about. My vision of a perfect future was already in jeopardy before we had even made it out of the driveway.