Fireworks

37

I knock softly on the door to my mom's office. The lights are all off in the house aside from the small sliver I can see coming out from under her door. I wait until she calls, "Yep," and step inside.

"Hey," I say, trying to gauge what mood she's in based on her expression.

She hasn't looked up from her computer, and continues tapping away at her keyboard as she says, "Back from work?"

"Yeah," I walk closer to her desk. She doesn't seem to be in any mood. Just tired, maybe, judging by the dark rings under her eyes. "How was your day?"

I wince when she looks up, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Do you need something?"

I start to sweat under her gaze. "I actually just wanted to talk to you about something really fast, if you have a moment."

She glances at her screen for a moment before sighing and leans back in her chair. "Sure, if you make it quick."

I nod, trying to act refined. "That's fine. I just wanted to let you know that I spoke to dad at the recital yesterday." She stiffens slightly, but offers no other tell of what she may be feeling. "He seems to be doing well, and actually-" I hesitate when her eyes narrow even further. "He actually asked if I'd think about coming to live with him."

I freeze, trying to see what she's feeling. She lets another breath and seems to think for only a moment before saying, "Typical of your father. Can't do anything the conventional way."

That's all she says before going back to her computer, already typing.

All the breath whooshes out of me and for some reason, a wave of disappointment sweeps over me. That's it?

"Well," I tread, "He asked me to think about it and said he may try to talk to you about it soon. I didn't want you to feel betrayed, or anything, if he brought up that he mentioned it-"

"Fine. Have you thought about it?" she asks, still not looking at me.

"What?"

She looks over the top of her screen with impatience. "I said did you think about it? Moving in with him?"

I feel like this is some kind of trick question. Is she looking for a legitimate answer? Or is she trying to get me to admit that I've considered it so she can hold it over me? I decide to play it safe. "He only told me yesterday, and I figured it's a decision that affects all of us, so-"

"Jesus, Hadlee, I don't care." She says monotonously, dropping her head into her hand and rubbing at her forehead. "Just pick. Now. I need to be done with this already."

My heartbeat picks up pace and for some embarrassing reason, my throat tightens. "Well, I... does it have to be now? We could talk about this together," I offer meekly.

She continues rubbing her forehead. "This isn't important enough to warrant a 'talk.' That's why we had dinner together the night your father decided to leave, that was important. This is a decision you get to make. It's a yes or a no. Do you want to live here anymore?"

My whole body is frozen, unable to move. This all feels like a big test, like if I say yes I'll be trapped, and if I say no my mom will hate me. I think of what Colton would do in this situation. Would he pick mom or dad? We always used to ask our parents if they had a favorite child, why didn't I ever think to ask Colton if he had a favorite parent? I know he admired dad and resented mom, but he could win our mom over like no other and blamed dad for working so much. Since this method isn't working, I switch tactics. What would Arlo tell me to do? Well, I guess I know he thinks I should do what makes me happy, but I don't know what will make me happy. I don't even-