Free Love Love by Beth Michele Page B

of
subject is necessary and I deploy my usual tactic. "So, how are
you, Mom?"
    And she's off and running. "I'm great,
dear. The shop is booming. People always need beautiful clothes to
wear, right? So yes, it's wonderful. In fact, I just went to a
runway show last week in Paris. It was simply amazing. In between
the show I managed to make it to the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, and
the Palace of Versailles. Paris is such a beautiful city. Jim and I
are getting on great. It's been seven months now, and he just
adores everything about me. He showers me with affection and I
can't get enough. I think this one might just be a keeper. We’ll
see. Anyway, things are going great here. I'm glad you're doing
well. We'll talk soon."
    "Okay, Mom, bye."
    "Goodbye, dear."
    I hang up the phone and the tension
immediately leaves my body.
    Fran reaches over and grabs my hand.
“You okay, sweetie?”
    “ Yeah. I don’t know why I
ever think things will be different with her. I might as well
pre-record my responses.” I feel my eyes start to burn and a tear
trickles down my cheek.
    Fran squeezes my hand
tightly.
    “ Why can’t I just have a
normal, loving mom, Fran?”
    “ Gabby, what’s normal
anyway? I don’t think any mom is normal.”
    “ I know,” I agree with a
sigh of resignation. “I guess I mean an involved mom. One that
thinks I’m special no matter what…you know…the kind of mom that
wants to hear me gush about my day, my boyfriend, my life. The mom
that doesn’t care if I’m wearing my Converse sneakers or my hair’s
in a messy ponytail, or the fact that I haven’t taken a shower. The
one that wants to take me to the mall and eat giant pretzels while
we shop, and help me pick out the right dress for me . The one who bumps my
shoulder and laughs, who shares her hopes and dreams. The kind of
mom that hurts when I’m hurting, and puts her arms around me after
I’ve lost the most important person in my life and I feel like
maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that things will be
okay…”
    Fran gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Your mom’s doing what she knows, Gabby. It still totally sucks
that you got the short end of the stick.”
    Squeezing the Jolly Rancher out of its
wrapper, I pop it into my mouth. It’s sweet and perfect, just what
I need to distract myself from my crazy mother. She’s my mom, and I
love her, but I still can’t help wishing she could be
different.
    ***

 
     
    After
two excruciatingly long days of waiting since Dane asked me out,
Friday is finally here. I truly know the meaning of TGIF. I lean
back in my desk chair with my hands behind my head and take a deep
breath. I’m meeting him tonight and my body can feel it. Tiny
sparks of excitement are shooting off inside me, so much so that
it’s difficult to focus. I do manage to return fifteen phone calls,
get through the oversized pile of paperwork on my desk, and toss a
couple of Robby’s sticky notes in the garbage after completing the
tasks. My stomach is growling as I’ve completely lost track of time
and missed lunch. I grab a yogurt and a juice from the coffee room
fridge so I can get through the rest of the day. I’m a bundle of
nerves as it gets closer to the time I’m meeting Dane.
    When I get home, the first thing I do
is rifle through Fran’s closet, which is no easy task. The quantity
of clothes she has is staggering, and as usual, my decision making
skills are letting me down. Just then, the front door slams and in
walks Fran. Thank God! I need help.
    “ Fran, in here,” I say,
muffled from under a pile of clothes, belts, and shoes.
    “ Where?”
    “ Help! I’m drowning in your
closet.” I hear her loud, melodic cackle. “Come on. You know I’m
meeting Dane tonight. What should I wear?”
    Fran taps her finger against her
temple. “Something revealing. Lots of cleavage.”
    “ I’d like to leave
something to the imagination.”
    “ Why bother?”
    “ Alright, alright.
So…?”
    Fran eyes all of the choices.