Teagan said quietly, “I get it. I’m living the same thing.”
“Oh come on Barbie, you just met your Ken and you know it. I watched the two of you. You’re perfect. He’s even charmed by the fact that you’re basically a shrew.”
She screeched, “I am not a shrew! I’m a very pleasant person. I am generous of spirit. Ask anyone. People are amazed I’ve been your sister all these years and you’re still alive. If I were a shrew, do you really think you would have lived this long?”
I tried not to laugh. “Not that kind of shrew, although that was a mighty fine impersonation of one. The mouse kind of shrew. They eat seventy-five percent of their body weight each day.”
She had the good grace to look embarrassed, “Oh. Sorry.”
“What crawled up your arse and died?”
She shrugged, “I have no idea, maybe it’s a separation thing?”
“Oh Lord, here we go.”
“I know it’s pathetic. We only shared one dinner, and you were there. I drove myself there and home. I’ve never touched him. You carried most of the conversation.”
“That’s because your mouth was full.”
“I eat when I get nervous, sue me.”
I almost whispered, as if he were in the next room trying to glean information, knowing full well that he wasn’t even in town, “If it is any consolation at all, I think he feels the same way.”
“Why’s that?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this. Which, of course, means that I’ll tell you, but then you’ll owe me one.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” She gave me a look that said she might owe me one, but it was going to be a challenge to collect any time soon.
“He was on the phone with Suzi. He said that if she’d told him about you sooner, he would have moved in sooner, or something like that. I didn’t quite hear all of it, I was eavesdropping.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
Her eyebrows met in the middle, “That’s a little weird.”
“What?”
“I’m just saying that we have shared a meal and a couple of compliments, and he said he should have moved in with you sooner. Why move in with you? That’s weird. Guys aren’t like that.”
I threw my hands up in the air. Very dramatic, “I give up.”
Teagan said, “I’m gonna keep my eye on him. You should too. He could be my Ken, but he might be more like Ken Wittenlinker.”
Totally confused, I said, “Who is Ken Wittenlinker?”
“He’s the main character on that new CSI type show. I think they’re going to weave his character back and forth through the whole series. He’s this really spooky but spectacularly sexy guy. You need to watch more TV.”
“Teagan, I don’t know how to break the news to you, but TV is fiction. It’s made up. It isn’t real.”
“I know that, but think about it. The idea has to come from somewhere. There’s no such thing as true fiction anymore, not like it used to be. It seems to me there are only rewritten stories. When is the last time you saw anything truly new? We’ve lost our creative edge. I blame over indulgent parents. I know they’re trying to do the right thing, but when you schedule every moment of a child’s life, it leaves them no time to be kids. What’s wrong with people? Play dates before their little one can move on their own, that’s a clue it isn’t about the child, it’s about the parent. And as the child gets older, it only gets worse.”
“Teagan what the heck does this have to do with fiction?”
She gave me that you poor thing look that always pisses me off. Sometimes she acts as if I don’t have the brains God gave a flat rock.
She explained, “If you go back and look at the really cheesy science fiction when we were kids, or even before we were born, they had imagination. Remember that one series, they were all about a device you could walk around with and talk to other people. Hello? Cell phone. The idea in the movies was in the mid sixties, wasn’t it? Then the real cell phone started in the mid seventies. Now everyone walks around with one attached to their ear.”
“Teagan, you can’t create a whole hypothesis based on one thingy.”
“Fine. How about landing a spaceship on Mars? Hello? We have put rovers on Mars. We landed on Mars back in the seventies. Or the government spying on us through globes in space that can see in your house, listen to your conversations, track your movements and thoughts. Have you thought about search engines and satellites? Those first satellites went up in the fifties. Think about it Cara, the Internet started in the early sixties. Think of something as life altering as cell phones and satellites and Mars landings that our generation, or even Mom’s generation came up with. I’m telling you, if science paid as well as Hollywood, we would be a lot further in our scientific development. Our generation is all about image and cash, and we both know it. Hollywood figures it out and science follows.”
“You’re insane.”
She rolled her eyes, “Not the first time you’ve said that to me.”
“Not the first time you’ve given me cause.”
“You’re the one that’s going to make her living chasing bad guys, using the Internet, and collecting rewards; when you don’t know anything about computers, or bad guys, and if they come after you, the most dangerous item you own is a fake stuffed rat.”
I said with a little more force than was warranted, “He isn’t fake, he is a real artificial church mouse, and he has a name. Having goals doesn’t make me insane. Having a new idea. Trying something different. Taking a chance. That doesn’t make me insane.”
“True.”
“I may be pathetic Teagan, but I’m not insane.”
“I concede.”
“Good cause I was about to get all logical on you, and you know how much work that is for me.”
“You know what Cara, we both know that you’re smart, really smart. Your logic may be a little convoluted at times. Is that an oxymoron?”
I shrugged.
She continued. “Mrs. O’Flynn, our sainted mother, raised not a single fool, but if someone were to award that particular distinction it would go to our Liam. Granted, he is not a fool, but there are times he can be fool – ish.”
I laughed in spite of myself.
Tension broken, we shared a pot of tea and half a bag of Oreos and decided to meet later for lunch. A preemptive strike, we’d go to Mom, before she came to us.
It didn’t dawn on me until after my sister left, that she still had my key.
ELEVEN
“It was hardly necessary for you girls to take me out to lunch. I could have fixed something at the house.”
Teagan jumped in, “Mom, you’ve been fixing lunch for us for a long time, can’t you let us get your lunch?”
“I suppose. But we certainly could have enjoyed a meal at either of your apartments.”
“This way we can all sit and enjoy the meal without having to pop up and down.” I was trying to be diplomatic, but I could feel the Mom Vibe. Something was about to rain down on our wee little heads, and I was nervous. Moms can be pretty stealthy, and a mom in a mood, or worse, overly interested in the comings and goings of her adult daughters, can be cataclysmic to one’s sex life.
Just in case I ever have a sex life again, I’d like to protect it. My mother always said, being proactive is a good thing. She probably didn’t have this particular situation in mind, but I’m not in the mood to share those thoughts with Mom and ask for confirmation.
I subtly started the ball rolling, “Mom, what’s going on?”
“Your brother has a new car, and a new girlfriend, and a new attitude. They came by for a cup of tea last night. She’s a lovely girl. Very organized. Very nice. Very smart. Your father liked her.”
I couldn’t mind my own business and hope that we could ignore complicated issues, I had to spring to the bait, “What’s the problem?”
“She brings with her a child.” Mom couldn’t have sounded more concerned.
Teagan
sounded genuinely confused, as my mother’s attitude didn’t match our upbringing, “And that’s a bad thing?”
“Oh for the love of God child don’t put words in my mouth,” she snapped. Not a common occurrence for Mom. “You know that a babe is always a good thing. Always.”
To Teagan she said, “Bringing with her a child, is not the issue I’m having. The issue is your brother.”
My turn, “What’s the issue with Liam?”
She looked first at Teagan, then at me, and said, “Do you really think he’s ready to settle down?”
Teagan jumped in, “Mom, I think they’ve been out about three times. They probably don’t even know each other’s middle names. It might be a bit soon to be thinking about settling down.”
“That would be my worry. It’s all fun and games when you’re single and young, but when a child is involved, it’s important to be more circumspect. A child is more easily hurt. A child doesn’t have the life experience to know. Your brother is a big goof. Every child loves him. What happens when this little one falls in love with your brother, and it doesn’t work out? The adults will be fine, but what of the child?”
We said in perfect unison, “Good point.”
“So which of you is going to talk to him?”
Teagan’s eyes were so big it must have been painful. She hates getting in the middle of these family things. She is quasi in charge of my screw-ups, but she knows that she doesn’t have to actually take any of my problems to heart. If I get in trouble I’ll tell Mom all the right things, and Teagan’s off the hook. With everyone else, there might actually be conflict and complications. Teagan doesn’t do family conflict. She’s the good sister.
I raised my hand as I said it, just like volunteering to clean the chalkboard erasers in grade school. It wouldn’t be fun, but it wouldn’t take long, and might buy me some goodwill. “I’ll talk to him.”
My mother, God love her, came back with, “And just how will that work Love? One child telling the other to grow up and act responsibly when it is she that has no job, isn’t even looking to find one, and has no roommate to share the load. Maybe I’m just not seeing things clearly, but aren’t you looking a wee bit like your brother?”
I said, “Should have seen that coming. Sorry.”
We all chuckled a bit, then I continued, “You know Mom, I could point out that if multiple children that you not only share your gene pool with, but also had the responsibility to raise, are turning out alike, maybe it isn’t our fault. Maybe my current issues are actually your fault. Ask anyone, if the kid is screwed up, it’s the mother’s fault.”
She didn’t laugh. That’s not good. Instead, she smiled. Worse.
She said, “My darlin’ girl, everything that happens to a child before the age of 18 is the responsibility of their parents. Not their fault necessarily, but their responsibility. Everything that happens between 18 and 21, well, that’s a transition period, and we pray a lot. After 21, the child is grown, and life is their own responsibility.”
She took a breath, and looked straight at me, “I’ll not take the credit for your glory Cara, nor will I take the blame for your tears.”
Her aura completely changed, she smiled and said, “Of course those ages are estimations. Are you saying you would like for me to take responsibility for my children again, to take them back to the rules and goals we had before 18? Perhaps find you the job of my choosing?”
That had backfired. Badly. Never try to turn things on a smart mom. It just never works out to your advantage. I should know that. She has more experience than I.
I sat there looking stunned with visions of Mom sleeping on my couch, the only way she would be able to enforce the rather strict rules I had as a teen.
Teagan chimed in, “Mom, Cara doesn’t need a job, she has a plan.”
If I had been certain that I could kick the ever-loving shit out of Teagan’s leg, and not break my mother’s by mistake, I would have. I wasn’t willing to take the chance. We all know, hit your mom, even in error, and you’re going straight to Hell.
My mother pretended not to feel the tension between Teagan and me and innocently said to me, “And what plan would that be Love?”
I took a breath and tried to center myself. Although the Blarney Stone and I have a rather intimate relationship, and I can talk my way out of anything, remember that the Blarney Stone has initials, and those initials are BS, and any mom, but most particularly my mom, can see their own child’s BS coming a mile down the road.
I said, “It isn’t really a plan, I’m simply looking at an entrepreneurial opportunity that was brought to my attention. I’m going to give it my attention for a few days, if it’s viable, great, if not, I’ll look for a real job.”
“And just what entrepreneurial opportunity are you looking at? Would Dad and I be interested?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well Love, if your father and I wouldn’t be interested, then I have to wonder if it’s a good opportunity for you.”
I took a deep breath, sending up a really quick prayer, that I hoped God would hear, and took the plunge, “Mom, not everything I’m interested in is going to be of interest to you and Daddy.”
“Perhaps not, but your father and I will always have a keen interest in what you girls decide to do.”
“Well, since Teagan is the one that brought it up, and she has been kind enough to consult with me, maybe she can describe it for you. She’s good at that. Public speaking. Sharing information. Her inability to keep her mouth shut is legendary. But then, her mouth probably isn’t what attracted that new guy she’s dating.”
Potential sons-in-law and/or potential grandchildren trump all things financial.
Yes, I’m just that good.
Mom’s attention immediately shifted to Teagan, “Love, you haven’t mentioned a new man in your life. Tell me all about him. When are you bringing him by for a cup of tea?”
Teagan’s nervous laugh was cute, and an obvious stall. Just as she was about to speak, up walked Father Parker. Mom asked him to join us. He graciously accepted, bless his heart, liver, and lungs; the man is a saint. Or will be.
Of course, the subject of conversation changed immediately. Memories of grade school, Father Parker, or Billy as we call him, went to school with Teagan. She had a major crush on him in about the sixth grade. He was always kind, but had already made up his mind to be a priest.
I think she still has a wee bit of a thing for him. I can imagine her, imagining herself, ripping off that collar and showing him what he’s missing. Ok, that was more than a little twisted, and even if I was not able to keep myself from thinking it, I shouldn’t have shared. I need to learn to keep one or two things to myself.
Billy was still sitting with Mom when we escaped.
At least we picked up the check on our way out the door.
I answered the rather loud knock on my door, “You handled that quite well.” Teagan showed up again, this time with cinnamon rolls in hand. If she doesn’t go back to work soon, we are both going to weigh 800 pounds.
“What was there to handle?”
She dumped the rolls on the dining room table and said; “I thought it rather clever to turn the attention from your business endeavors to my love life.”
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