wearing a tux and the bow tie was crooked. What was he dressed as, a fancy man? How creative, a fancy man. A coat check man? Or just a checking-out-my-mother-in-the-coat-closet man? Oh, what a cool costume.
“Sorry,” Jennifer said, and yanked me away, toward the kitchen. “Come on,” she said to me. “Let’s take a walk.”
Jennifer and I walked around the block without talking, and then around again. As the house came into sight, she asked, “How you doing?”
“Don’t tell anybody,” I said.
“I won’t.”
“I know,” I said. I looked at her and took a deep breath. I prayed Jennifer wouldn’t give me any bull like it’s okay, your mom is entitled, they are both single consenting adults and doesn’t she deserve to be happy. I had all that going on in my head, doing battle with the other side that was screaming but she is my mother!
Then another thought hit me. “Aren’t your parents friends with Kevin’s parents?”
“Yeah,” Jennifer said.
I covered my face with my hands. “Great.”
“Some things are private,” Jennifer said. “Even from parents.”
I nodded. “Thanks. You’re a good friend.”
“I know,” said Jennifer. She put her arm lightly around my shoulder and we went back inside.
“I can’t believe his mother is in Iraq,” I said.
“Whose mother?”
“Kevin’s. Flying fighter jets,” I whispered. “In Iraq. Right? Or Iran, maybe?”
“Idaho,” Jennifer said. “She’s in Idaho. I don’t think she flies anything. Maybe a kite occasionally. She’s the most aggressively mellow person ever; she, like, goes on marches for peace. A fighter pilot? That is a really funny image. My parents would love that. Why would you think she was a fighter pilot?”
“Tess said you told her . . .”
Jennifer cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. “Tess says a lot of things.”
“Then why do Kevin and Samantha live with their father?”
Jennifer shrugged. “My parents said that’s the arrangement that everybody wanted. But who really knows?”
By then we’d gotten back to the party room. I half-expected Tess to be making out with Kevin, but luckily I was spared that one horror. Darlene and Tess were dancing over by the stereo, talking to Brad, who was choosing music. Kevin was shooting pool with some of the other guys. George looked up as I came in. His flash of a smile changed to a perplexed look, and he mouthed, “You okay?”
I nodded and looked away. I knew I was completely incapable of conversation right then, especially about if I was okay and why not. The last thing I wanted ever, but particularly right then, was a scene. I just wanted to have fun, enjoy the party, not deal, forget.
But no.
Kevin’s dad and my mom tromped into the room, holding a stack of pizza boxes. They were smiling as if they were the parents of the house, and we were a winning Little League team. “Who’s hungry?” Kevin’s dad asked. He put his two boxes down, and my mother put her two beside his.
“Hot!” she said, and I almost could have killed her on the spot.
I may have actually flown across the room. I don’t remember walking, certainly, and there was a pool table between us; anyway, there I was, and I grabbed her arm, hard. “Can I talk to you?”
“Sure,” she said. “Ow.”
I stormed out of the room and she followed me. I think probably everybody was watching us but at that point I didn’t even care. Or not that much. Well, I cared but I added that humiliation to all the other stuff I was blaming her for in my head.
“What is wrong with you?” I calmly asked her in the hall. Well, calmly might be an exaggeration. I kind of yelled. Kind of might be an exaggeration, too. Okay, I was shrieking.
“Charlie,” she said, incredulous.
“Right again,” I said.
“What?”
“Why are you ruining my life?” I asked, even louder, if that’s possible.
“Charlotte Reese Collins,” she said. “Control yourself.”
Two girls dressed as goths went by. Mom