Page 43 of Afternoon Delight

Meg

Shelby was here when I came in the door.

“Finally!” She got up from the kitchen table to hug me.

I closed my eyes as I wrapped my arms around her, drinking in the feel of her.

She she was no longer a midge, but a fully grown woman with blue hair and a new eyebrow piercing.

She’d gotten a stud in her nose back in high school, much to Joel’s disgust. He didn’t know about the navel ring she’d gotten with some of her graduation money.

For all I knew, she had even more private places pierced.

During her first year in Calgary, she’d put on the Freshman Five, but this was her second year.

She had figured out how to feed herself something more than pizza and beer and had slimmed back to a figure a lot like mine and Mom’s.

We weren’t tall, svelte supermodels, but we weren’t prone to being super curvy, either.

When we gained weight, it was ass first, boobs last, but when we ate decently, we nailed “average.”

“Is Georgia all right? You’ve been gone all day.

” Mom was tossing a salad, but the kitchen smelled like she’d already put the scalloped potatoes in the oven.

“Did you wash your face? I thought you were wearing makeup this morning.” She gave me a penetrating look that said, I know you’ve been up to something.

Only letting myself turn into teenage Meg, the one who let a boy dominate her world to the detriment of her own priorities. That’s all.

“You were already gone when I left,” I reminded her, instead of lying outright about showering with Zak. “Georgia is recovering well, but she got tired and kicked me out so I met up with Zak.” I mumbled that detail into my purse as I made a point of stowing my keys.

“Did something happen with Dale again?”

“No. Just offering a friendly ear.” I poured myself a glass of wine.

“The antique guy?” Shelby slipped back into her seat at the table, sipping from her own glass of pinot gris.

“Mom’s boyfriend,” Roddie said out of the side of his mouth. He was drinking something blue that was pure sugar and caffeine, making it a toss-up as to which one of them was stunting their growth.

“Really?” Shelby’s curiosity sharpened.

“We’re just friends,” I insisted into the refrigerator, only realizing as I set the bottle in the door that it was empty. Very cool, Meg.

I tsked and laughed at myself, hoping everyone would attribute my sheepishness to that and not to where—and how—I’d spent my afternoon.

“It’s okay, you know. If you have a boyfriend,” Shelby said. “I mean, Dad’s got Wanda and Freddie. We’re not going to freak out if you go on a date.”

“Funny. I just said the same thing to my mother the other day.” It was a deliberate deflection, and it worked.

“Grandma! Are you dating?” Shelby asked. “Are you on any apps?”

“I am not meeting a man online.” Mom brought the salad to the table. “If I want a romantic prospect, I’ll put an ad in the paper, the way my father did when he thought it was time I found a husband.”

“Really?” Roddie started to giggle, very tickled by that.

“Of course not,” Mom said with exasperation.

“I met your grandfather when I started working for him. I wasn’t even living at home.

I’d been to college and was sharing an apartment with a fellow student from my office administration course.

We were a hot commodity because we had learned how to use a computer . ”

“Oooh,” we all sing-songed in appropriate awe while Mom buried her self-deprecating smirk against the rim of her wineglass.

“Turn it off and turn it on again,” Mom said pithily. “That’s all you needed to know back then.”

“If you’re such a computer pioneer, why are you afraid to use one for dating?” Shelby prodded. “There are sites for seniors.” She picked up her phone.

“Careful. You might find Mom on one,” Rod joked.

“Ouch.” I bent to hook my arm around his neck in a loose headlock and made kissy noises against his hair until he shrugged me off.

“How’s Weston?” I asked Shelby. “Since we’re talking about dating.”

“Good.” She set aside her phone. “That’s actually why I stayed an extra day in Kelowna.”

“He’s the friend in Kelowna?”

“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “He has family there, and his parents were coming to visit. He wanted me to meet them. He would have come here to meet you, but they were there for a funeral. His uncle died. He didn’t really know him, but he wanted to see his cousins.

I said he could come back to Toronto with me for the summer and meet all of you there. ”

I’d bought a condo with a bedroom and a den so I could have both kids over, but I had a moment of, Do I want that ?

It wasn’t about Shelby having a boyfriend or sleeping with him under my roof.

I knew when she’d become sexually active and with whom because she’d asked me to take her to the clinic for birth control before they did it.

It had been distressing, because I’d had to reckon with the fact that she was growing up and making decisions about her own body, but also comforting, because she’d been willing to talk to me about it.

I had always struggled—I still struggled—to talk about sex with my own mother.

She had gotten pregnant, and that had been wrong, according to her mother.

Thus, when I had gotten pregnant the first time, outside the sanctity of marriage, that had also been wrong.

We were both still trying to compensate for that, which was silly because, come on. How was Shelby a mistake? How was I?

No, this moment of hesitation was about Toronto. About going back to where I didn’t even have a job anymore.

“What about you?” Shelby was asking Rod. “Are there any cute guys at your new school?”

“Mmm.” His mouth squinched up toward his nose, but I suspected it was more reluctance to talk about it than dismay at his options.

“We are collectively setting back feminism by a hundred years, talking about our ‘prospects,’” I pointed out as I peeked at the scalloped potatoes to see if it was time to start cooking the steaks, both beef and cauliflower.

“Yeah, but talking about boys is fun,” Shelby said. “Or it would be, if you three found yourself some prospects to talk about. What else are we going to talk about? School?”

“Let’s talk about helping Grandma with Grandpa’s things,” I suggested. “You kids have to tell Grandma if there are things you want, but you can also take stuff to the second-hand store and maybe sell Dad’s fishing gear online. I’ll buy you a day at the ski hill,” I added, sweetening the pot.

“You don’t have to bribe us, Mom. But thanks. We accept.” Shelby sent a bright smile to Rod.

“The ski hill is closed for the season,” Roddie informed her. “You walked right into that one. Good job.”

Shelby made a face at me while Mom sighed wearily.

“Don’t you want to come live with us in Toronto, Grandma?” Shelby asked.

“ You don’t live there,” Mom pointed out.

“Not right now, but I will. Everyone else is there.” She shrugged.

“Roddie will leave in a few years. Then it’ll be me and your mother in a place I don’t know.

At least I have friends here. And your mother has suggested I start a window display service.

What would I do? Pack up my whole craft room and ship it across the country to start fresh there?

I don’t know. It sounds too complicated. ”

“Are you thinking seriously about that, Mom?” I asked her.

“Were you not serious when you suggested it?”

“I was,” I assured her.

“Grandma’s been doing the displays at the sex shop. They’re actually pretty funny. In a good way,” Roddie told Shelby. “I was in the coffee shop across the street and some people came in laughing about it, but it made some other people walk over to see it, so you’re good at it, Grandma.”

“Sex gets everyone’s attention. I don’t know that I’d be as successful with a clothing store.

But I do keep wondering what I’ll do with my time once you’ve gone home.

I can’t keep rattling around this house, but.

.. I suppose that’s why women my age remarry, so they have someone to look after and don’t have to think about how empty their life is. ”

Oof. “Mom. If you want something to fix up, this house is begging for it.”

“Yeah, Grandma. Start with looking after yourself. See? Feminism is alive and well here,” Shelby said.

“Then why isn’t Roddie doing the cooking?” I asked.

“Because you never let us in the kitchen! I’ll barbecue if you want me to.”

I really was my mother. I peered outside. The rain had stopped.

“Fine. Go start it.”