Switchy

  “Well. This is the first I’ve heard you say that.”

  “No, it’s not. I’m telling you the same things I’ve said for the past three years. That the three of us living under the same roof is a really bad idea. I don’t understand why you sold your house to begin with. Dad said he didn’t want to move.”

  “I told you. I didn’t like the way the neighborhood was starting to change.”

  “You mean you didn’t like that a very sweet couple who happened to be black moved in across the street from you.”

  Her mom didn’t answer at first. “I don’t think I like your tone, young lady.”

  Em bitterly laughed. “Young lady? You’re going there? Okay. If we’re going to play that game, I’m out.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that!”

  Em went for the nuclear option that Mitchell, had suggested a few weeks earlier. “Fine. Since obviously nothing’s going to change unless I take the initiative, this is what’s going to happen. You and Dad can live here. You like it here. I’ll find a new place to live and move out. Then you won’t have to move. I’ll have the landlord transfer the lease into your name, I’ll get the utilities changed over to your name, and everyone will be happy.”

  Now her mother looked horrified. “You can’t do that!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because…because we can’t live alone!”

  That was still a bullshit excuse, and one that Em did not understand why her mom always fell back on as a last resort. “Then go move in with Don or Amy.”

  “No!”

  “Why not, Mom?”

  Her mom’s mouth flapped open and shut a few times before she let out a huffy noise, turned, and retreated to their bedroom…

  Where she slammed the door behind her.

  Em slumped on the couch. In a way, it felt freeing to have finally put it out there.

  She didn’t understand her mom’s insistence that they couldn’t live alone, either. Both of them could still drive. They were completely independent. Her mom could do chores around the house when she chose to. Her dad was still in great health. As far as Em could tell, her mom was physically in pretty decent shape.

  Except for acting batcrap crazy at times.

  More frequent times.

  Em was tired of being treated like her maid, though. Hell, even growing up, one of her mom’s favorite phrases was, I’m not your maid.

  Yet when it came to chores and maintenance around the house, if she or her dad didn’t do it, it rarely got done. Just last night her mom had made herself a late-night snack of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and not only left everything sitting out on the counter, including the loaf of bread which dried out, but she’d managed to smear jelly and peanut butter all over the place.

  When she’d asked her mom about it that morning, she’d blamed it on not turning on the light and forgetting to put stuff up.

  And it wasn’t the first time something like that had happened, either. It was more like the thousand and first time.

  Then there were the less-than-veiled insults and potshots her mom took at Em about everything from her choice in jobs to her personal appearance.

  Yes, her dad tried to take up the slack with housework, but Em wanted a life.

  She was done.

  She was tired.

  And she hated that it made her feel like a horrible daughter, but it was impossible for her to see the positive side of her mother any longer. If she didn’t want to start hating her mom, she needed her parents not living under the same roof as her.

  Now I remember why I moved out when I was nineteen and married Ronnie.

  The fact that it had been for a doomed marriage that led to a divorce four years later notwithstanding.

  * * * *

  As soon as Em’s dad returned home late that afternoon, Em confronted him about the day’s events. He leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, gaze fixed on the floor as he listened.

  Em softened her end approach. “Now, either we get her to the doctor and get her tested for dementia, or Alzheimer’s, or whatever, and find out if there’s really something wrong with her, or I am going to move out. I won’t keep doing this. I’m done.”

  “I know, honey. I’m sorry.” He took his glasses off and set them on the counter before rubbing at his eyes. “I never should have let her talk me into this.”

  “I love both of you. But I’ve had it up to here with her. She’s barely tolerable now when you’re home, and she’s a lot worse when you’re not home. If there’s nothing wrong with her mind, then she needs to get out and meet new people, start volunteering again—something. This isn’t healthy for her, you, or me.”

  “I know.”

  “Why, if you knew what a bad idea this was, did you let her talk you into it?”

  “Because you know how she is. She wore me down. And, to be honest, she said she’d do it with or without me. I love her. Besides, it’s her money.”

  “You guys have been married nearly fifty years. I think it’s community property at this point. Besides, you worked and retired. You have a pension.”

  “The house was in her name, not both of us. Her parents bought it for us as a wedding present when we got married. When her parents died, she inherited their estate because she was the only child.”

  “I can’t get any work done when I’m alone with her. She’s getting worse. She’s clingy and needy and it’s like she refuses to see that I have a life and a job and I can’t spend my time babysitting a woman perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

  “She was an only child and her parents were busy all the time. She went to private boarding schools. I think she’s got a fear of being abandoned or something.”

  “I hate to be like this, Dad, but life is short. If she had severe health issues, I’d get that. And yes, I’d be far more compassionate and patient, bite my tongue, and deal with it. And of course I’d want you two living with me so I could help out if that was the case.”

  He stared at the doorway, where her mom had just appeared.

  “Are you two conspiring against me now?” She’d taken a shower and put on slacks and a blouse.

  That was another thing Em had noticed. A lot of the time, her mom didn’t actually take steps to get dressed if Em’s dad wasn’t home. But she’d shower and change right before he was due to return.

  Her dad straightened. “I’m going to call Dr. Farland and get you in for a checkup. I asked you months ago to do it, and you didn’t.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “That’s because I feel fine. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “Peanut butter and jelly all over the kitchen. The way you’ve been acting.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Need I remind you who you’re talking to?”

  “No, you don’t, because I agree with Em. We’re done playing this game with you. Threaten me with divorce one more time, Francis, and I’ll make it happen. I dare you.”

  Silence descended in the kitchen. Em didn’t know who was more shocked, her or her mom.

  “What did you say to me?” It emerged from her mom’s mouth as an angry whisper.

  “I told you what’s going to happen,” he said. “We’re getting you in for a full physical. It’s been a couple of years now. If there’s something going on, we need to catch it early and maybe slow it down.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with me, I said!”

  “Fine. Then the doctor can tell me that and you can give me all the I-told-you-so's you want.”

  Em watched, caught between feeling horrified at this completely uncharacteristic show of backbone from her father, and curious over her mother’s reactions to him.

  Her mother caved first. “Okay, fine. Do whatever you want, Doug. I’ll prove you wrong.”

  “Good. Then when the doctor agrees with you that you’re fine, we can start looking for a condo, like I told you from the beginning I wanted to do when you insisted on moving.”

  Now her mom went r
ed in the face. “You two are against me. What is this?”

  “This is me taking a stand, Francis,” her father said. “If any of the kids had acted like you have lately, you would have been wanting to spank them until they couldn’t sit down. So either you have a medical issue going on, or you are becoming rude in your old age. Em works hard, and she’s put up with a hell of a lot of bullshit from you that she does not deserve.”

  Go, Dad!

  Em suspected if she could see herself in a mirror that her eyes were as big as saucers in shock and awe over this development.

  “How dare you!”

  Her dad shook his head. “Enough with the false outrage. That’s worn out. Three years now, I’ve been patient. Em’s been more than patient. Saint-like. I figured you’d get over whatever it was that got into you and we could enjoy our retirement like we’d always talked about. We were going to sell and downsize into a small one-bedroom condo, remember those plans? Something we didn’t need to take care of. We were going to go on cruises. Travel. See things. Get an RV and roam. What happened to all those plans, huh? Why did you suddenly change your mind?”

  Em’s head swiveled to stare at her dad. This was all news to her.

  He looked…well, she didn’t know how to describe it, but it sort of broke her heart more than a little.

  “We had a lot of plans,” he continued when her mom didn’t respond. “Why did you decide that we couldn’t do any of them? You used to have a lot of friends.”

  Her mother’s gaze dropped to the floor as she started to shift her weight from one foot to the other. “Well, we moved.”

  “Yeah, and whose fault was that? Besides, we only moved ten miles, not ten states away. You still drive. You can’t be bothered to go see them? To call them?”

  Her mom turned and retreated to their bedroom.

  Again.

  And slammed the door.

  Again.

  Em’s nerves were shot. “You guys are on your own for dinner,” she said, heading to pack up her laptop. “I’m going out.”

  Her father followed her. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “I know, Dad. I just…” She stopped and turned. “Yeah, I’m going to feel like real shit if she’s had something medical going on all this time, but I can’t live like this anymore. If I don’t make a change I’m going to start hating her, and I don’t want to get to that point. I’m too close already.”

  “I’ll make sure she goes to the doctor.”

  “If you don’t take her yourself, she’ll just lie and say she went.”

  “Oh, I know. I’m going to call his office right now and make the appointment and drive her there myself.”

  “Okay.” She hesitated, then hugged him. “I love you guys, but if we’re not going to end up hating each other, we can’t keep living together like this.”

  “I know.”

  Ten minutes later, Em was pulling out of the driveway and her mom still hadn’t emerged from their room.

  She hit speed-dial for Mitchell and put it on speaker so she could keep both hands on the wheel.

  “Hello, babycakes. Where’s my updated website for the next sale?”

  She knew from his tone he was teasing, but he was pretty much her last safety valve. “Act of Mom.”

  When she finished retelling the events, including her dad’s ultimatum to her mom, Mitchell let out a low whistle. “Oh, sweetie. Why didn’t you tell me it’d gotten so bad?”

  “I just… It crept up on me, I guess. This was the final straw.”

  “Listen, don’t come in. I’ll meet you over at Puerto Mellow. Rich is playing there tonight. We’ll try to grab that cozy back corner booth and get some work done. I’ll buy you dinner.”

  “Ooh. Deal.”

  “Drive safe. See you in a few.”

  “Bye.”

  At least something’s going right today.

  Chapter Three

  Em loved the little coffeeshop. Rich Hurst played guitar there a couple of nights a week. He was an independent musician, and was quite good. Puerto Mellow had a comfy, homey vibe that never failed to relax Em when she walked through the doors.

  Their favorite booth was, in fact, open. Mitchell arrived a few minutes later, and after setting down his laptop case, he pulled her in for a long, strong hug he wouldn’t release until he was damned good and ready to.

  He looked down at her with piercing grey eyes. “You, my dear lady, need a vacation.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  He pointed at the booth. “Sit. The usual?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She started setting up her laptop while he went to put in their order. Mitchell Goldstein wasn’t just her boss. He was her best friend and self-proclaimed fairy godmother. She’d been their mutual “best man” when Mitchell and his partner of thirty years, Brent, were finally able to get legally married after the gay marriage ban fell.

  She’d started working for them while still married to her ex, helping organize the estate sales and auctions they held. She’d worked her way up—and through a two-year degree in college—to being second-in-command at their business.

  Mitchell had also tried to warn her not to let her parents move in with her, to stand firm because it wouldn’t be temporary the way her mom had said it’d be, but she’d listened to him too late.

  When the moving truck had been backing up her driveway and her mother was pounding on the front door one Monday evening.

  Her mom had made a couple of what Em had thought were teasing comments over the phone the week before, but Em hadn’t taken her seriously and thought it was a decision she wouldn’t have to stand firm on for several months.

  When he returned with their large salads, cold vanilla chai drinks, and huge brownies, he leveled a gaze her way. “If we need to, we can get Ed Payne involved. Ask his advice.”

  “I know in the past I’ve fought that suggestion, but I’m done. That might be what I have to do.”

  He forked an olive into his mouth and watched her while he chewed. “You’re worried the doctor will find something wrong with her?”

  “I’m still processing the fact that my dad not only stood up to her the way he did, but how he said if she threatens him with divorce again. I mean, I’ve never heard her say that to him before. I’ve never even heard her hint about that. Either one of them. I thought they were happy.”

  He shrugged. “Sweetie, people can fight pretty darn quietly in private when they feel they need to. That’s not your problem.”

  “How horrible of a person does it make me that I’m kind of hoping she does have a medical issue?”

  “Because otherwise it means facing she’s being childish on purpose?”

  Em nodded. One of the things she adored about Mitchell was his allergy to bullshit. He would cut right through a topic without hesitation.

  Every time.

  “Maybe we do need to find you a new place to live. You’ve been saving up, right?”

  “Always.”

  “Maybe you buy a condo. You move into it. Stop dropping dollars down the drain every month.”

  “I hate living in an apartment.”

  “Condo.”

  “Same thing. That’s why I rented a house in the first place. You know that.”

  “I also know you’re miserable and stuck in a cycle that’s only digging you a deeper rut. Would living alone in a condo be worse?”

  “Good point.” She poked around in her salad. “I should have listened to you when you warned me there was a plot afoot.”

  “I could see it playing out, honey. You just didn’t want to believe they’d all gang up on you.”

  “And then to hear the way Dad sounded when he talked about how they’d always had retirement plans. It just…it was heartbreaking. I can’t believe it’s as simple as some sort of childhood separation anxiety setting in with her.”

  “They say we start out screaming and in diapers and end up back there.” Mitchell smiled. “So tell me about the new nei
ghbors.”

  “Easy there, Cupid. I’m pretty sure they’re an item.”

  “Can’t blame a guy for trying. If I fix you up with someone or you meet a guy, for the time being it’ll be a dinner at my place. No cell phones allowed at the table.” He smiled. “Then you can have me and Brent grill him for you.”

  “Gee, thanks.” But she smiled.

  * * * *

  Jarred drove them home. He’d worked a double shift the day before and arrived home early, so he’d waited until Garrison’s last class of the day at the community college had let out before riding over together to look at the house. Jarred worked as a CNA at Proctor-Collins Medical Center in Sarasota, and Garrison taught history. Jarred’s mom had dropped off the keys to them the night before.

  “Remind me to thank you mom for not warning us about the fridge,” Garrison lightly groused.

  “I predict her claiming allergies gave her stopped-up sinuses and she didn’t notice as the excuse.”

  “Won’t take that bet, because I believe it. I feel like I need a bath just from walking around in there.” Garrison leaned back in his seat. “You sure you don’t want me to call Tracy and schedule a clean-out? Those are vacation days you won’t get back. I can’t take the time off right now in the middle of a week.”

  “I’m only going to take three days of vacation time. Next week. Tack them on to a normal two days off.”

  “We could put out an all-call for—”

  “You tell Tilly about this, and I’ll beat you in the bad way.” Jarred’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

  Garrison stared at him. Jarred could feel his gaze. “What? You like Tilly.”

  “No, I love Tilly. I just…”

  What?

  Jarred let out a sigh. “I’m not ready to face everyone yet. Not all at once like that. I can’t handle it.”

  “They want to be there for us. Tony called me again the other day and invited us over to their place for dinner this weekend. Just dinner, Sunday night. Vanilla dinner. He said he really hoped we could make it. Can bring someone, if we want. That they miss us.”