Page 12 of Afternoon Delight

Meg

Roddie had texted me that he had a quiz to study for and a basketball game Friday night but promised to call me over the weekend.

When he decided to live with Joel, it had been about staying closer to his friends and his high school, which he liked for its music program.

I told Roddie I understood, but I still wavered between guilt and bitterness.

I’m that hypocrite who complains about becoming a mother too young but still gets upset that my son chose to live with his dad, leaving a gaping hole in my identity.

I envy my daughter for being single and thriving in the carefree college life I never had—but I haven’t figured out how to enjoy being single myself.

I could have fought Joel for the house in Rosedale, and Roddie probably would have stayed with me there.

But Joel had a baby on the way. I was happy to downsize into a North York condo near the university, in case Roddie decided to study there.

Also, Joel had screwed Wanda in our bed while I was helping Mom with probate.

That soured any lingering sentiment I felt toward our home, so I let him buy me out.

The only thing I regretted about my current decision was leaving Roddie again. I’d already missed too much of his life. Big things. Roddie was fourteen, and I hadn’t guessed he was gay until he told me and Joel right before school started in September.

I was still furious with myself for not realizing it sooner, but between Dad, the divorce, and returning to the office full-time, I’d been phoning in my parenting for at least three years.

I’m not proud of that.

But I was doing everything I could to be present now—as evidenced by the fact that I was waiting for him to call me because I wasn’t there .

Ugh. Mother of the Year again.

I texted that I was free all day tomorrow if he wanted to talk, then started going through the books on my bedroom shelves, hoping to find a first edition Harry Potter.

Rod:

Are you home now?

Yes

A FaceTime notification popped up.

I dropped the book I was holding and accepted the call, moving to the bed and piling pillows against the headboard. “Hi.”

“Hey.” He was on his laptop with gaming headphones on, not looking at me as he emptied his school backpack onto the desk.

“It’s Saturday night. I thought you’d be out.” I glanced at the clock. It was nine there—he still had an hour before curfew.

“Like with Tyson? He’s with Bethany now.” His lip curled, and his eyebrows pulled into that winged shape Joel’s always made when he was annoyed. I found it patronizing in his father—but when Roddie did it, I loved it.

“Really?” I was genuinely shocked. Agog. Things had been very new between them, but—“Bethany?” I couldn’t believe it. She’d been his best friend since kindergarten.

“Right? He acted like he liked me, but I guess he actually liked her? And she likes him? That’s fucked up, right?”

“It is.” Now wasn’t the time to scold him for swearing. Honestly, I actually didn’t care if my kids swore. I almost never said anything about it.

Roddie’s brows had thickened with adolescence, forming strong, masculine lines over his golden-brown eyes.

In so many ways, he looked like the young Joel my young self had fallen for—especially with that kicked-dog look on his face.

It reminded me I had genuinely loved his father.

It helped me forgive myself for staying with Joel that first time.

I did what I thought was best for our kids.

I didn’t regret it—but I knew now it hadn’t been the best thing for me .

Hindsight, man. Always twenty-twenty.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, bud. I can see you’re angry.” And hurt. Oh, my little man.

“I am. School sucks. I switched to remote learning, but I have to go in for music and science lab. They’re on my fucking bus .”

“Oh, buddy. That sucks.”

“Yeah.” There was a crack in his voice.

I wanted to hug him so hard right then. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I just did.”

Right. I didn’t laugh because there was a sharp ache sitting in my chest. He might be starting to look and sound more man than child, but I felt as though I’d abandoned my baby.

“Did you see my text about coming here for spring break?” I asked tentatively.

“Yeah. You’re staying longer? How come?”

“Grandma’s having trouble parting with stuff.

” That was true, but I’d noticed that my own room was a time capsule, so I was trying not to be too hard on her about it.

“I’ve also started working for a friend who’s sick.

It’s a long story, but there’s a chance I’ll need to stay through the summer to get everything done.

I can fly you out here anytime, though. I have points from all my other trips. Grandma would love to see you.”

Visiting Grandma in Victoria had been a lot more fun at four than it was at fourteen, so I was genuinely surprised when he said, “Can I come next weekend? We’ve got a PA day Friday, and Thursday’s online. I could leave Wednesday after my lab in the morning, then do school from there on Thursday.”

I was taken aback. What fourteen-year-old wanted to hang out with his mom unless he really, really missed her? A lump formed in my throat.

“Done,” I said. “I’ll book it as soon as we’re off the phone.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“No problem.” I forced some lightness into my voice. “Anything else going on? Have you talked to Shelby?”

She and I texted constantly—mostly memes and rants about the patriarchy—but despite the seven-year age gap, she and Roddie were still remarkably close.

“She’s seeing someone called Weston. I said it sounds like she’s dating a refrigerator.”

“And she said little brothers are awesome and she misses you?”

“Pretty much. I’ll tell her I’m coming to see you. Maybe she can come see us.”

“That’d be nice. I’ll look at flights for her, too.” God, I wanted my arms around my kids right now.

“Okay. I’ll go tell Dad.”

“I’ll go tell Grandma that we have to clean up the rumpus room.”

“That bed.” My kids had been sleeping on that pull-out since they were little. There was an infamous bar that dug into the sleeper’s back, which had grown worse as they grew bigger and heavier and the mattress grew older and saggier.

“I’ll buy a foamy tomorrow. I’m really glad you’re coming. I’ll text you the details in a little while.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Rod.” I was smiling as I ended the call.

It faded as I realized I’d have to ‘fess up about my career change sooner than I’d expected.