Hi, honey. I looked out the window, trying to give her privacy in a room too small for it. Lauren's voice came through faintly, sharp and bright, even without speaker. Did someone fix the fence? Diane's eyes flicked to me.
Caleb came by. A pause. Then Lauren laughed, not warmly. Mom, seriously? Diane's face went still.
What? You called, Caleb? That's weird. I stared at the table. Diane lowered her voice.
He He knew how to fix it. Of course he did. That's his whole thing. Something in my chest tightened, Lauren continued, muffled, but clear enough. He loves being needed.
Just don't let him hang around and get sentimental. Diane closed her eyes. For a second, I felt like I had been put back in Lauren's apartment on the day she left, listening to her reduce three years of love into something too settled to keep. Then Diane said very calmly. Lauren, that was unkind.
Another pause. Oh my god, Mom. Don't make it dramatic. Diane looked at me then. And maybe it was the fact that she didn't look embarrassed for herself.
She looked sorry for me that was worse. I'll call you later, she said. She hung up before Lauren could answer. The kitchen became very quiet. I pushed my chair back.
I should go. Diane stood too. Caleb, it's fine. No, it isn't. I stopped near the back door.
She came closer, but not too close this time. That is not how I see you, she said. I looked at her. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were not. You know that, right?
I wanted to say yes. I didn't because suddenly I wasn't sure how many years I had spent letting Lauren's version of me become the version I carried around. useful, settled, safe, needed. Words that should have been good until she made them sound like furniture. Diane's face softened. She called you boring because she didn't know what peace looked like.
I laughed once, but it almost hurt. Don't say things like that. Why? Because I might believe you. The moment changed just like that.
Not loudly, not dramatically, but the space between us narrowed even though neither of us moved. Diane's hand rested on the back of the kitchen chair. Mine was still on the door frame. We were 10 ft apart and somehow much too close. She looked away first.