Class Mom

by Laurie Gelman

  As we sit down, I open my mouth to start explaining, but Ron, who still has my phone, is busy scrolling through my texts with Don. Oh, shit. He finally looks up at me.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  Uh-oh. Ron never drops the f-bomb. This is bad.

  “Sweetie, I’m sorry. You saw the texts. You know it was a mistake.”

  “For you, it was. But he thought it was real. Why the fuck would he think you’d invite him to screw you at a restaurant?” He pauses. “Are you having an affair?”

  “No!” I say as emphatically as I can. “No. No. Never. I would never do that.”

  “Oh, come on, Jen!” Ron snaps at me. I look over his shoulder and notice we’re drawing looks from some of the customers. “You’ve been texting with this guy since the beginning of the school year.”

  “Yes, but it’s just texting. Stupid, mindless texting that means nothing.” I’m trying to remember just how bad the flirting got.

  “Why would you write ‘Do you mean coffee or COFFEE’ in capital letters? If some woman texted that to me, I’d think she was coming on to me.”

  “Would you like to hear the specials?” Our waitress makes an untimely entrance.

  “Can I have a glass of red wine?” I ask.

  “Me, too.” Ron rubs his hands over his eyes.

  She nods and walks away. I look at Ron, and he takes a deep breath.

  “I just meant to be funny, I wasn’t coming on to him. You need to believe that.”

  Ron shakes his head and looks at the table.

  The wine arrives, and we both take a huge gulp. I can tell Ron doesn’t know what to say, so I keep going.

  “You know, it probably wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t told him I had a crush on him in high school.”

  “Oh, please, he already knew that.”

  “Trust me, he had no idea.”

  “What about your big hookup in the P.E. laundry room?”

  “We didn’t hook up!” I suddenly realize I’ve never told him the story. “I walked in on him going down on the girls’ volleyball coach.”

  Ron raises his eyebrows.

  “Really?”

  “I was in detention and they used to make us help out the custodial staff. I was given a bunch of uniforms to wash. So I went to the P.E. building, walked in the laundry room, and got an eyeful of Don having a box lunch.”

  “Wow. Did they see you?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Did the teacher get fired?”

  “I don’t know. The only real conversation Don and I ever had in high school was when he asked me not to say anything. He said they were in love, if you can believe it.”

  Ron smirks, and I think I can see a thaw coming. But then his brows come together again.

  “But none of this explains why he came here tonight.” He runs his hands through his hair and scratches really hard. “I mean, Jesus. He thought he was going to have sex with you. There must be something else.”

  “Well, technically, he says he came here not to have sex with me, so…”

  Ron scowls at me. I heave a deep breath trying to slow my heart beat down. We drink our wine in silence until Ron finally says, “I’ve lost my appetite.” He gets up and puts some money on the table.

  “I’ll see you at home.” As he walks away, I can barely see him through the tears welling up in my eyes.

  * * *

  I finish both glasses of wine at the table by myself. I have a headache from trying not to cry, so when I get to the minivan I let loose and sob for a good ten minutes. Ron has never walked out on a fight before. That’s usually my job—I’m the runner, he’s the chaser. I have no idea how to make things right. I’m really hoping he just needs time to cool down.

  I drive home in a fog. My stomach is queasy and my head is still pounding despite my sobfest—most likely because I haven’t had anything to eat since two o’clock. As I pull up to our house, I see about five cars in the driveway; all are familiar, and I’m immediately panic-stricken. I leap out of the minivan and run to the front door, where I’m greeted by a burst of laughter coming from my living room. WTF?

  When I walk into the room, my family and friends are sitting in a circle playing Apples to Apples. My mother looks up at me.

  “Well, finally. We thought you guys would never get here.”

  “What are you all doing here?” I ask with no social grace whatsoever.

  “Ask your husband,” my mom suggests.

  “Is he here?”

  “He’s supposed to be with you.” Nina stands and walks toward me. “What’s wrong?” She knows me better than anyone. Not to mention my eyes probably look like I’ve gone five rounds with Muhammad Ali.

  “He left the restaurant before me, that’s all. What are you guys doing here?” I ask again.

  “We came to talk to you,” Laura says as she starts to clean up the card game.

  “About what? What’s wrong? Why are you two not at school?”

  “We’re heading back tonight, don’t have a cow.” Vivs frowns. “Why isn’t Ron here, is the real question. He called this powwow.”

  “I need some water,” I say, and head to the kitchen. What the hell are all these people doing in my house? I’m so not in the mood for this. Chyna walks in as I’m chugging my drink.

  “Max is on your bed watching TV,” she tells me. “Do you want me to stay with him?”

  “Would you mind, sweetie? I need to deal with what’s going on in my living room.”

  “Sure, good luck.” She gives me what looks like a pitying smile and heads back upstairs.

  I start for the living room, but my mother cuts me off in the hallway and drags me back to the kitchen. She backs me up against the counter and looks at every square inch of my face. Finally she speaks, in the kindest voice I think I have ever heard her use.

  “What’s wrong, honey?”

  “Oh, Mom.” I dissolve into tears and throw my arms around her.

  “Shhh. Okay, okay. Let it out.”

  When I can finally calm down enough to get a coherent sentence out, I briefly tell her the whole sordid tale, starting with when I first saw Don at curriculum night and ending with this evening’s fiasco.

  “I thought it was just fun, you know? It made me feel giddy. But I never ever would have taken it anywhere. I love Ron and I’m happier than most married people I know. Why would I put any of that at risk just to have a laugh? What is wrong with me?”

  “Oh, sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just mourning your youth.”

  Great, my mother’s calling me old. I say as much to her.

  “Jennifer Rose, that is not what I said. Of course you’re not old, but you’re also not that twenty-two-year-old girl traipsing through Europe throwing her cat around.”

  “Mom!”

  “No, listen to me.” She leads me to the kitchen table and pulls out two chairs for us.

  “You did it all and had a great time, and don’t ever tell your father this, but I’m glad you had a little fun. We got married right out of high school, and he’s the only man I have ever kissed, let alone … you know.” She looks at her lap.

  I let that little overshare sink in for a minute.

  “Are you saying you regret only being with Dad?”

  “No, I’m saying it’s okay to realize that the really fun part of your life just might be behind you. Be sad that it’s over, and then move on. Those years aren’t coming back, no matter how young a little flirting makes you feel. And believe me, there’s a whole lot of good stuff still to come.”

  I look at my mother and try to see her not as my mom, but as a woman. It’s not something we often do as daughters. Then something occurs to me.

  “So, did you ever have a little flirtation with someone?”

  She gives me a worldly grin. “Now, sweetheart, you don’t think I went to bingo all those years because I loved playing it, do you?”

  I crack up at this and continue to laugh un
til I start crying again. Ugh.

  My mom hands me a paper napkin from the holder on the table and waits for me to calm down.

  When I do, I ask her to tell me why everyone is here.

  “Oh, my goodness. I forgot about them. We should get back in there.”

  She holds her hand out for me, the way she used to when I was a child. I happily take it.

  “But why are they here?” I ask again.

  “You’ll see. It was Ron’s idea.”

  At the mention of his name, my stomach does a high dive. I wonder when he’ll be home.

  That question is answered as we enter the living room; he’s sitting with my dad, my daughters, Nina, and Garth, quietly waiting for something to happen.

  “So, what’s going on?” I say to no one and everyone.

  My mother, who has joined my father on the couch by this time, nods to Ron, who nods back; then she stands up and takes a piece of paper out of her bra. Nice, Mom. Way to keep it classy.

  “Jennifer, I just want to start by saying we are so proud of you. I mean, let’s face it, you weren’t exactly on the fast track to success after your little trip to Europe.”

  That elicits a good laugh from the crowd.

  “But you pulled yourself together and have created a beautiful life.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” My eyes start to well up again, and so do hers. She hands the paper to my father, sits down, and blows her nose into the tissue that permanently lives in her sleeve.

  My father stands and clears his throat.

  “We have really enjoyed watching you get yourself back into shape and, honey, you really look terrific. Not that you weren’t always a beauty, but you have a real nice healthy glow these days.”

  “Um, thanks, Dad.” Why are they saying all these nice things? My birthday isn’t for, like, two weeks.

  Nina goes next.

  “Girl, you know how I love to bust you about your training, but I know you’ve really put your heart and soul into it. I wish I had the discipline to go the distance like you have. You’re my hero.” She raises her glass to me in salute.

  My eyes are misty with tears that just won’t stop. I can’t believe all the love I’m receiving. It’s too much, considering the emotional tsunami I have already been through today.

  “My turn!” Vivs stands up and makes everyone laugh.

  “Mom, you are without a doubt one of the most insane people I know. Nobody I know has a mom like you. You taught Laurs and me to be strong, independent women, but you also forced us to learn how to do laundry and cook. I swear I’m the only one of my friends who knows how to sew a button.”

  “Well, that’s just shameful,” my mother interjects. The lack of domestic capability among the younger generation really grinds her gears.

  “Anyway, we love you and we are really proud of you, no matter what.”

  No matter what?

  As I’m pondering this last line, Laura takes the wheel.

  “You have been the best mother ever. Even when you did things like hit us with your shoe when you were driving—”

  “That was one time!” I feel the need to defend myself.

  “I know! I’m just saying that even though you lost your temper and were really mean sometimes—”

  “Laura, stop talking.” Vivs takes her by the arm and pulls her down.

  “She knows I love her,” Laura protests, but remains seated.

  Garth stands up beside Nina and gives me that great megawatt smile I remember so well from the first time I met him.

  “Jen, you are a rock star. You took a chance on an old has-been trainer like me, and I have enjoyed the last six months so very much. Becoming your friend has just been icing on an already frosted cake.”

  “Thanks, Garth, I feel the same way.”

  “But here’s the thing.”

  Ah! The thing. Finally we get to the thing.

  “I don’t think you should attempt a mud run for the next few months.”

  I’m surprised I didn’t put this together sooner. I mean, my dad talked about what a nice body I have now. When would that ever come up in a happy-birthday speech?

  Everyone is watching to see what my reaction will be. If they had caught me on another night, I might have argued with them, but tonight the fight is all out of me, so I just shrug.

  “I don’t really know what to say. I can see you’ve put a lot of thought into this, and clearly you have had meetings behind my back.”

  “Just one,” Laura assures me.

  I wink at her; then I look straight at Garth.

  “Really?”

  He smiles sheepishly. “We’ll do this, I promise. I just don’t think you’re ready. You were, believe me. But missing these last three weeks has put you off schedule for the one in April. I’ve told you before, August will be your shining moment.”

  “But in the meantime…” Ron stands up. I haven’t been able to make eye contact with him this whole time. “I want you to think about doing the mini event at my store.” His monotone feels like a slap in the face after all the love I’ve been getting.

  “You’re doing that event again?”

  He nods. “The governor’s office called us last week and asked if we would participate again.”

  I look at Garth, who gives me a thumbs-up.

  “Back to the scene of the crime, huh?”

  “This time you’ll crush it,” Vivs assures me. Everyone nods in agreement.

  I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the events of the night. I can’t help it. I start to cry yet again.

  Laura and Vivs get out of their chairs and rush over to awkwardly hug me. How did they know that’s just what I needed?

  * * *

  On my way to bed that night, I tiptoe into Max’s room to kiss him good night and find him still awake.

  “Can’t you sleep, buddy?” I sit down on his bed and brush the hair from his eyes.

  “No. I think I ate too much bunny,” he mumbles.

  I suppress a smile.

  “I’m surprised Chyna let you eat it.”

  “She didn’t really know,” he whispers. “She thinks I just ate the ears.”

  “Well, that’s not cool. Just because I’m not home doesn’t mean you can break the rules.”

  “I know.” He yawns. “I’m sorry. Will you lie down with me?”

  I know I should go into the bedroom and try to talk to Ron, but I really don’t feel like being iced again. After everyone left, he went upstairs without a word. And anyway, who could refuse such an offer? I cram myself into the race-car bed and Max snuggles into me.

  21

  * * *

  To: Ms. Ward’s Class

  From: JDixon

  Date: 4/8

  Subject: Ye Olde Parent/Teacher Conferences

  Good morrow, good friends!

  I was going to do the whole email in olden speak but I’m already bored with it, so I’m switching to acerbic.

  Can you believe it’s conference time again? I feel like we just went through this whole rigmarole. I mean, my God, how much more can we talk about our kids?

  Apparently Miss Ward has a lot to say, so we will be squeezing our butts back into those little chairs come April 27 and 28.

  My plan is to use the same schedule as I did in September. I have attached it below. If you have a problem, keep it to yourself or tell Asami. She has a much more sympathetic ear.

  Conference Schedule:

  Thursday, April 27

  12:30 Lewicki

  1:00 Fancy

  1:30 Aikens

  2:00 Zalis

  2:30 Alexander

  3:00 Kaplan

  Friday, April 28

  8:00 Cobb

  8:30 Dixon

  9:00 Westman

  9:30 Baton

  10:30 Tucci

  11:00 Elder

  11:30 Wolffe

  1:00 Gordon/Burgess

  1:30 Chang

  2:00 Brown

  By the way, on April 29 there will be a min
i mud run at my husband’s store (the Fitting Room, on Drummond St.) to help raise awareness for the governor’s “Get Fit” campaign. If anyone would like to participate, email me and let me know. I can bring five people.

  That’s it. Move along. Nothing to see here.

  Jen (and Asami in spirit)

  * * *

  * * *

  I can tell Garth is taking it a bit easy on me, and frankly, I’m glad. How sad is it that it takes six months to get into shape and basically six days to fall out of shape?

  He’s keeping away from anything that might tax my groin area, which unfortunately doesn’t exclude burpees. After five, I cry uncle and he gives me a breather. We have already done push-ups and sit-ups and a bit of jump rope cardio, but I had to stop because the blood was pumping a little too enthusiastically through my downtown area. We’re only twenty minutes into the workout and I’m already done.

  “Looking good, Jen.”

  “Oh, please, Garth! I’m like a newbie. When was the last time I quit after five burpees?”

  “Give yourself a break. We have two and a half weeks to get you back in fighting shape, and it’s not going to happen in one day. I want to work your cardio a little more, so why don’t we fast-walk on the treadmill? I’ll give you a bit of an angle so it feels like a hill.”

  I sigh and hoist myself off the floor of Ron’s Gym and Tan. I haven’t been down here in a few weeks and I forgot all the little changes I made to the décor over the winter. The is now a red Nike poster with black letters that says, “If no one thinks you can, then you have to.” It was a Christmas gift from Peetsa and I love it. I also put in a decorative basket of towels for when I sweat, and a pitcher of water, which sometimes has lemons in it and sometimes cucumbers. I usually light a Bay Breeze Yankee Candle, too. All in all, it’s a nice place to work out.

  “What are you doing for your birthday?” Garth asks as he pushes the buttons on our treadmill.

  “I’m not sure.” I’m fast-walking but I sneak a look at Garth. “Why? Is Ron planning something?”

  I sound a bit desperate. Things at home have been pretty tense for the past week. I hope Max isn’t picking up on it. I mean, we still eat dinner together and hang out, but Ron has a force field around him when it comes to me. We talked the morning after the weird intervention thing, when he found me sleeping in Max’s bed. Ron said he just needed time and space and would I just please give it to him, which I have, but it’s been really hard. I just want to say over and over how sorry I am and how much I love him, but he won’t give me the chance.