At 53, Mom started dating again and I’d never seen her happier. Then she invited Marcus to dinner. I opened the door and knew his face from 11 years earlier. I smiled through dinner, waited until he left, then told Mom there was something about the man she’d fallen for that she needed to know first.<\/p>\n
Mom changed her earrings three times before Marcus arrived.<\/p>\n
There was something about the man she’d fallen for that she needed to know first.<\/p>\n
“The gold ones,” I said from the kitchen.<\/p>\n
“You said the silver ones.”<\/p>\n
“That was two earrings ago!”<\/p>\n
Mom appeared in the doorway holding a different pair against her neck.<\/p>\n
“These?”<\/p>\n
“Mom, he’s coming for dinner, not conducting a jewelry inspection.”<\/p>\n
“Easy for you to say.”<\/p>\n
“Mom, he’s coming for dinner, not conducting a jewelry inspection.”<\/p>\n
At 53, my mother was nervous about a man.<\/p>\n
“Too much?” she asked.<\/p>\n
“Which ones do you actually want to wear?”<\/p>\n
She glanced at the gold earrings she’d abandoned on the counter.<\/p>\n
I picked them up and held them out.<\/p>\n
“Then wear those.”<\/p>\n
At 53, my mother was nervous about a man.<\/p>\n
She rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n
“When did you become my mother, Jean?”<\/p>\n
“Around your third outfit change.”<\/p>\n
Her laugh was still in the room when the doorbell rang.<\/p>\n
“I’ll get it.”<\/p>\n
“Wait.” Mom caught my arm. “Be nice.”<\/p>\n
“I’m always nice, Mom.”<\/p>\n
“When did you become my mother, Jean?”<\/p>\n
“You once asked my dentist whether he had a personality outside of teeth.”<\/p>\n
“He brought up plaque during lunch.”<\/p>\n
The bell rang again.<\/p>\n
Mom shoved me toward the door.<\/p>\n
“Go!”<\/p>\n
I was still smiling when I opened it.<\/p>\n
Then I saw the man standing on the porch.<\/p>\n
I was still smiling when I opened it.<\/p>\n
He was older.<\/p>\n
His hair had gone mostly gray at the temples, and there were deeper lines around his eyes.<\/p>\n
But I knew that face.<\/p>\n
Marcus’s polite smile faltered too.<\/p>\n
He looked from me to Mom, then back again.<\/p>\n
“Jeannie? Ella’s Jean?”<\/p>\n
My hand tightened around the doorknob.<\/p>\n
“Marcus.”<\/p>\n
His hair had gone mostly gray at the temples, and there were deeper lines around his eyes.<\/p>\n
Mom appeared behind me.<\/p>\n
“Wait. You two know each other?”<\/p>\n
Marcus looked at me for another second before lifting the bottle of wine he’d brought.<\/p>\n
“Jeannie worked for me years ago.”<\/p>\n
Mom laughed in disbelief.<\/p>\n
“You’re kidding.”<\/p>\n
“Small world,” Marcus said as he walked past me.<\/p>\n
“Wait. You two know each other?”<\/p>\n
And with him came a memory I hadn’t thought about in years.<\/p>\n
A bookstore.<\/p>\n
A woman I’d never forgotten.<\/p>\n
And one sentence Marcus used to say that had quietly changed my life.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
Mom had spent most of her adult life making sure I never noticed what she went without.<\/p>\n
With him came a memory I hadn’t thought about in years.<\/p>\n
My father left when I was little.<\/p>\n
After that, she became everything.<\/p>\n
She picked up extra shifts but somehow still appeared at school concerts with five minutes to spare.<\/p>\n
Once, when I was 13, I found an unopened pair of winter boots in her closet.<\/p>\n
She picked up extra shifts but somehow still appeared at school concerts with five minutes to spare.<\/p>\n
“Why haven’t you worn these, Mom?”<\/p>\n
“They’re uncomfortable, dear.”<\/p>\n
Months later, I realized she’d returned them.<\/p>\n
That same week, I’d gotten the art supplies I’d been begging for.<\/p>\n
That was how she loved me.<\/p>\n
When I graduated from college and finally had a good job, I started pushing back.<\/p>\n
That same week, I’d gotten the art supplies I’d been begging for.<\/p>\n
“Take the trip.”<\/p>\n
“That’s ridiculous money, Jean.”<\/p>\n
“Then buy the dress, Mom.”<\/p>\n
“I have dresses, dear.”<\/p>\n
“Those are archaeological artifacts.”<\/p>\n
She traveled with friends.<\/p>\n
Started painting again.<\/p>\n
Joined a community volunteer group.<\/p>\n
Then one evening, she called me and casually mentioned a man named Marcus.<\/p>\n
“That’s ridiculous money, Jean.”<\/p>\n
Within weeks, his name began lighting up her phone almost as often as mine.<\/p>\n
One night Mom admitted, laughing, “He makes me feel 25 again.”<\/p>\n
I told her I couldn’t wait to meet him.<\/p>\n
I meant it.<\/p>\n
Until I opened that door.<\/p>\n
I told her I couldn’t wait to meet him.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
Marcus was attentive without hovering.<\/p>\n
When Mom coughed after swallowing too quickly, he slid her water closer without interrupting her story.<\/p>\n
He remembered she hated mushrooms and quietly moved the serving dish away from her.<\/p>\n
“So,” Mom said, pointing her fork at him, “…tell Jean about the tomatoes.”<\/p>\n
He remembered she hated mushrooms and quietly moved the serving dish away from her.<\/p>\n
Marcus groaned. “Absolutely not.”<\/p>\n
“You should see them, Jean.”<\/p>\n
“They’re recovering, Ella.”<\/p>\n
“They’re leaning sideways.”<\/p>\n
“Toward sunlight,” he corrected.<\/p>\n
Mom shook her head. “You’re still checking on them tonight, aren’t you?”<\/p>\n
Marcus shrugged. “They’re unsupervised. I finally got ours to stop collapsing.”<\/p>\n
My fork stopped halfway to my mouth.<\/p>\n
Ours.<\/p>\n
“You’re still checking on them tonight, aren’t you?”<\/p>\n
“My wife used to grow tomatoes,” he added. “She made it look insultingly easy.”<\/p>\n
I looked at Mom.<\/p>\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n
“Marcus inherited her confidence.”<\/p>\n
“Unfortunately, not her competence,” he said.<\/p>\n
They laughed.<\/p>\n
I didn’t.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
Back then, I worked part-time at a little bookstore downtown.<\/p>\n
Marcus was my manager.<\/p>\n
“Marcus inherited her confidence.”<\/p>\n
I was also dating a man named Tyler.<\/p>\n
If you’d asked me then, I would’ve told you Tyler was protective.<\/p>\n
He picked restaurants because I “took forever.”<\/p>\n
Chose movies because I “always picked weird ones.”<\/p>\n
Corrected my clothes before parties.<\/p>\n
Called three times if I didn’t answer once.<\/p>\n
If you’d asked me then, I would’ve told you Tyler was protective.<\/p>\n
I simply got used to saying:<\/p>\n
“Whatever you want.”<\/p>\n
One afternoon, Marcus was rearranging the front display.<\/p>\n
“Which one?”<\/p>\n
He held up two books.<\/p>\n
I shrugged.<\/p>\n
“Whatever.”<\/p>\n
He didn’t move.<\/p>\n
“Which one, Jeannie?”<\/p>\n
“Either.”<\/p>\n
“I didn’t ask which one wouldn’t upset civilization.”<\/p>\n
I laughed.<\/p>\n
I simply got used to saying: “Whatever you want.”<\/p>\n
He held them up again.<\/p>\n
“What do you want?”<\/p>\n
“The blue one.”<\/p>\n
“Great!”<\/p>\n
He put it in the window.<\/p>\n
That should’ve been nothing.<\/p>\n
Except Marcus kept doing it.<\/p>\n
Coffee order.<\/p>\n
Work schedule.<\/p>\n
Display signs.<\/p>\n
Music.<\/p>\n
“What do you think?”<\/p>\n
“What do you want?”<\/p>\n
“Which do you prefer?”<\/p>\n
Tiny questions.<\/p>\n
That should’ve been nothing. Except Marcus kept doing it.<\/p>\n
Questions I slowly realized almost nobody was asking me.<\/p>\n
One evening, Tyler came into the store and criticized a sweater I was wearing.<\/p>\n
I immediately apologized.<\/p>\n
Marcus was shelving books nearby.<\/p>\n
He didn’t look at Tyler.<\/p>\n
He looked at me and asked, “Do you like the sweater, Jean?”<\/p>\n
One evening, Tyler came into the store and criticized a sweater I was wearing.<\/p>\n
Tyler laughed.<\/p>\n
“Apparently somebody has to.”<\/p>\n
I looked down at myself.<\/p>\n
“Yeah,” I said. “I do.”<\/p>\n
Tyler and I broke up three months later.<\/p>\n
But there was someone else from those years I remembered even more clearly.<\/p>\n
Marcus’s wife.<\/p>\n
She drew ridiculous cartoons on Marcus’s lunch bags.<\/p>\n
There was someone else from those years I remembered even more clearly.<\/p>\n
He taped his favorites beside the register.<\/p>\n
Every Thursday, Marcus left at exactly five.<\/p>\n
“Regional meeting,” someone teased once.<\/p>\n
Marcus grabbed his coat.<\/p>\n
“Dinner with my wife.”<\/p>\n
“The meeting’s important, Marcus.”<\/p>\n
“They’ll survive.”<\/p>\n
Then one Thursday, he didn’t leave.<\/p>\n
He sat in his office staring at his phone.<\/p>\n
Every Thursday, Marcus left at exactly five.<\/p>\n
The next week, he barely spoke.<\/p>\n
A month later, Marcus left the bookstore completely.<\/p>\n
His wife was sick.<\/p>\n
He was going home to care for her.<\/p>\n
I never saw him again.<\/p>\n
Eventually, I heard she’d died.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
I couldn’t stop wondering whether Mom understood what she was stepping into.<\/p>\n
I never saw him again. Eventually, I heard she’d died.<\/p>\n
Marcus finally left just after nine.<\/p>\n
Mom stood at the door smiling while his car backed out of the driveway.<\/p>\n
Then she closed it and turned toward me.<\/p>\n
“Well?”<\/p>\n
I looked through the window until Marcus’s taillights disappeared.<\/p>\n
Her smile faded when she saw my face.<\/p>\n
I looked through the window until Marcus’s taillights disappeared.<\/p>\n
“Mom, before you get any closer to him, there’s something you need to know.”<\/p>\n
I told her about the bookstore and Marcus, his wife, and the way that marriage seemed so deeply woven into who he was.<\/p>\n
Mom listened without interrupting.<\/p>\n
“Mom, before you get any closer to him, there’s something you need to know.”<\/p>\n
Finally, I said the thing that had been sitting in my chest all evening.<\/p>\n
“You’ve spent your whole life coming second, Mom.”<\/p>\n
Her eyebrows drew together.<\/p>\n
“To bills. To work. To Dad when he was still around. To me. I don’t want you spending the rest of your life competing with someone who isn’t even here.”<\/p>\n
“You’ve spent your whole life coming second, Mom.”<\/p>\n
Suddenly, Mom walked into the hallway and took her coat from the hook.<\/p>\n
“Put your shoes on, Jean.”<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
She grabbed her keys.<\/p>\n
“I could explain this, but you’d still think I’m making excuses for him. There’s something you need to see.”<\/p>\n
“I could explain this, but you’d still think I’m making excuses for him.”<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
Mom drove 15 minutes without explaining anything.<\/p>\n
“Are you kidnapping me?”<\/p>\n
“Yes.”<\/p>\n
“Good to know.”<\/p>\n
“You ask too many questions.”<\/p>\n
“You raised me, Mom.”<\/p>\n
That earned a smile, but she kept driving.<\/p>\n
We turned into a community garden tucked behind a small recreation center.<\/p>\n
That earned a smile, but she kept driving.<\/p>\n
Most of the plots were dark, but strings of warm lights ran along the main path.<\/p>\n
Then I saw Marcus.<\/p>\n
He was kneeling beside a tomato plant, tying one of its stems to a wooden stake.<\/p>\n
Mom lowered her window.<\/p>\n
“You’re strangling it.”<\/p>\n
Marcus looked up, surprised.<\/p>\n
“I’m supporting it.”<\/p>\n
He was kneeling beside a tomato plant, tying one of its stems to a wooden stake.<\/p>\n
“It’s leaning away from you.”<\/p>\n
“Ungrateful plant!” he teasingly accused.<\/p>\n
I stared at Mom.<\/p>\n
“You knew he’d be here?”<\/p>\n
“I knew he’d probably be here.”<\/p>\n
She parked.<\/p>\n
Marcus brushed dirt from his knees as we approached.<\/p>\n
His face softened the second he saw me.<\/p>\n
“Ah.”<\/p>\n
“I knew he’d probably be here.”<\/p>\n
I folded my arms.<\/p>\n
“That’s reassuring.”<\/p>\n
Mom touched my elbow.<\/p>\n
“Jean, look around.”<\/p>\n
Several small plaques marked the plots. Some carried names. Others had dates.<\/p>\n
Marcus followed my gaze.<\/p>\n
“This section belongs to a bereavement group.”<\/p>\n
“Bereavement group?” I breathed.<\/p>\n
He nodded toward his tomatoes.<\/p>\n
Several small plaques marked the plots. Some carried names. Others had dates.<\/p>\n
“My wife grew them every summer. After she died, I couldn’t even look at one without thinking about her.”<\/p>\n
He drew in a sharp breath.<\/p>\n
“When I joined the group, they told us to plant something we’d have to keep alive long enough to see another season.”<\/p>\n
“My wife grew them every summer. After she died, I couldn’t even look at one without thinking about her.”<\/p>\n
“And you chose tomatoes?” I asked.<\/p>\n
“Arrogance.” Mom snorted. “He killed two batches.”<\/p>\n
“One and a half.”<\/p>\n
“Two.”<\/p>\n
Marcus sighed. “Your mother’s very supportive.”<\/p>\n
I looked at her.<\/p>\n
“You knew about his wife?”<\/p>\n
“Of course I knew.”<\/p>\n
“How much?”<\/p>\n
Mom slipped her hands into her coat pockets.<\/p>\n
“You knew about his wife?”<\/p>\n
“Enough to know I would’ve liked her.”<\/p>\n
That stopped me.<\/p>\n
All evening I’d thought Mom was too infatuated to see what I saw.<\/p>\n
She’d seen more.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
Marcus stepped closer, but left space between us.<\/p>\n
I looked directly at him.<\/p>\n
“Do you still love her?”<\/p>\n
“Yes.”<\/p>\n
“Do you still love her?”<\/p>\n
Marcus glanced toward the crooked tomato plant.<\/p>\n
“She’s dead, Jeannie. Not erased.”<\/p>\n
Then he looked at Mom.<\/p>\n
“Loving your mother didn’t require me to stop loving the woman who taught me how.”<\/p>\n
“What does that even mean?”<\/p>\n
Marcus rubbed dirt from his thumb.<\/p>\n
“Loving your mother didn’t require me to stop loving the woman who taught me how.”<\/p>\n
“You remember how I used to ask what you wanted at the bookstore?”<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
He smiled faintly.<\/p>\n
“That wasn’t originally my wisdom.”<\/p>\n
I froze.<\/p>\n
“My wife used to get furious with me because I planned everything. Restaurants, vacations, weekends. I thought taking care of somebody meant handling things for them.”<\/p>\n
“My wife used to get furious with me because I planned everything.”<\/p>\n
Mom murmured, “That sounds familiar.”<\/p>\n
Marcus ignored her.<\/p>\n
“One night my wife finally said, ‘Marcus, stop loving me like a project. Ask.’ Years later, I watched you say ‘whatever’ to every question anyone asked you. I recognized it.”<\/p>\n
I stared at him.<\/p>\n
“Marcus, stop loving me like a project. Ask.”<\/p>\n
The habit I’d remembered as Marcus saving some disappearing part of me hadn’t begun with him.<\/p>\n
It had traveled through someone I’d been afraid Mom could never compete with.<\/p>\n
I turned to her.<\/p>\n
“Doesn’t it bother you?”<\/p>\n
“That he still loves her?”<\/p>\n
I nodded.<\/p>\n
Mom considered that.<\/p>\n
“Doesn’t it bother you?”<\/p>\n
“Jean, I raised you by myself for most of my adult life. Do you really think I’d trust a man whose answer to loss was pretending somebody never mattered?”<\/p>\n
I looked away.<\/p>\n
“I’m not dating the man he was before her.” Mom’s eyes went to Marcus. “I’m dating the man he became.”<\/p>\n
“I’m not dating the man he was before her.”<\/p>\n
Marcus cleared his throat.<\/p>\n
“This is becoming alarmingly positive.”<\/p>\n
I laughed before I could stop myself.<\/p>\n
Then Mom took my hand.<\/p>\n
“I know why you were worried.”<\/p>\n
“I thought I was protecting you, Mom.”<\/p>\n
“I know, sweetheart.” She squeezed my fingers. “You’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”<\/p>\n
“I know why you were worried.”<\/p>\n
I frowned.<\/p>\n
“What does that mean?”<\/p>\n
“The trips you keep trying to buy me. The classes. The clothes. Pushing me to date.”<\/p>\n
“I just want you to have things after everything you gave up.”<\/p>\n
“I know. But you don’t owe me a happy ending, Jean.”<\/p>\n
“I just want you to have things after everything you gave up.”<\/p>\n
For years, I’d been trying to balance a ledger Mom had never opened.<\/p>\n
Every sacrifice.<\/p>\n
Every extra shift.<\/p>\n
Every pair of boots returned so I could have something instead.<\/p>\n
“You gave up so much for me, Mom.”<\/p>\n
“And I’d do it again.” She smiled. “But my life isn’t your debt.”<\/p>\n
“You gave up so much for me, Mom.”<\/p>\n
Marcus wisely became fascinated by his tomatoes.<\/p>\n
Mom bumped my shoulder.<\/p>\n
“And for the record, I’m not coming second.”<\/p>\n
“No?”<\/p>\n
“No. Marcus had a life before me. So did I.”<\/p>\n
She glanced at him.<\/p>\n
“We’re meeting in the middle, that’s all.”<\/p>\n
Marcus suddenly brightened.<\/p>\n
“Speaking of accomplishments…”<\/p>\n
“Marcus had a life before me. So did I.”<\/p>\n
He carefully twisted a tiny tomato from the vine and presented it to Mom.<\/p>\n
It was small, crooked, and mostly orange.<\/p>\n
Mom stared at it.<\/p>\n
“That’s pathetic.”<\/p>\n
“I raised that.”<\/p>\n
“You interfered with nature until it surrendered, Marcus.”<\/p>\n
“I don’t need this hostility.”<\/p>\n
I laughed so hard I had to wipe my eyes.<\/p>\n
“You interfered with nature until it surrendered, Marcus.”<\/p>\n
Marcus picked up a small hand shovel and tossed it toward me.<\/p>\n
I barely caught it.<\/p>\n
“What am I supposed to do with this?”<\/p>\n
He pointed to an empty strip of soil beside Mom’s volunteer plot.<\/p>\n
“Plant something.”<\/p>\n
“What?”<\/p>\n
“Something you’d like to see later.”<\/p>\n
“What am I supposed to do with this?”<\/p>\n
I looked at the empty ground.<\/p>\n
Mom was already kneeling beside it.<\/p>\n
“Anything?”<\/p>\n
“Within reason,” Marcus said. “Ella vetoed my watermelon proposal.”<\/p>\n
“You had six square feet.”<\/p>\n
“Dream killer.”<\/p>\n
Mom handed me a packet of seeds from the gardening box.<\/p>\n
I read the label.<\/p>\n
“Will these survive neglect?”<\/p>\n
Mom handed me a packet of seeds from the gardening box.<\/p>\n
“Plastic survives neglect,” Marcus said.<\/p>\n
Mom nudged him aside.<\/p>\n
“Don’t listen to him. He murdered basil.”<\/p>\n
“Allegedly!”<\/p>\n
I crouched beside her.<\/p>\n
For once, I didn’t think about what Mom had sacrificed 20 years ago.<\/p>\n
Marcus wasn’t staring at what he’d lost 11 years ago.<\/p>\n
For once, I didn’t think about what Mom had sacrificed 20 years ago.<\/p>\n
And Mom wasn’t waiting for permission to enjoy whatever years came next.<\/p>\n
I pressed one seed into the dark soil.<\/p>\n
Mom covered another beside mine.<\/p>\n
Marcus immediately started explaining how much water they needed.<\/p>\n
“Are you sure?” I asked.<\/p>\n
“No.”<\/p>\n
Mom laughed. “At least he’s learning.”<\/p>\n
“Are you sure?”<\/p>\n
I looked at the two of them, then down at the little patch of earth beneath my hand.<\/p>\n
Nothing was growing there yet.<\/p>\n
That didn’t make it empty.<\/p>\n
It just meant something could still go there.<\/p>\n
So I planted another seed.<\/p>\n
It just meant something could still go there.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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