On the Either Side of the Page

6. Evan

The room was cold enough and the eerie vibes that she gave off made me more frustrated. My mother was an embodiment of elegance and intelligence. Beauty with brains, indeed. However, there was something else to how she carried herself. A woman of little words, and more deeds that she was, she really hated when something wouldn’t go the ‘right' way. Perfectionist. And a complete different person from the one who my younger self would call ‘mom’.

These days she and I preferred ‘Miss Gems’. And it never failed to make me feel alienated.

Amelia sat beside me in the couch while Zale went to bring some files my mother had asked for. She would occasionally drink from her glass, gløgg, that was a clear indication of her frame of mind. Annoyed. She’d always used it to calm her senses. However, my anxiety got the best of me, not allowing me to enjoy even the slightest of it.

She had a quilted, off-white jacket on and her faint brown curls all up in a braided bun. A scarf hanging loosely around her neck. She certainly was in love with dressing up. I smiled inwardly remembering the days, she’d make me wear overly fancy clothes even though I’d protest.

“So?”

I was pulled out of my memory lane, as she called me.

“So?” I repeated, puzzled.

Placing her glass of gløgg down, she looked at me. Her eyes having no glimpse of any emotion at all.

“I meant, how’s everything going?” she said, looking over to the fireplace.

“Just fine. The company—”

“About you,” she suddenly spoke, cutting me off. “How are you doing, my son?” She flashed something that I thought was a sort of sorrowful smile. But why now?

Mustering up a bit of courage to not let anything sparkle in my eyes, I spoke, choosing my words carefully.

“I’m fine, Miss Gems.”

Her mouth parted as the mention of her name, but soon closed with hum.

Thanks to Zale, who came in just after, the awkwardness reduced drastically.

“Here are the files, Miss Gems,” he said, shoving a bunch of blue and red folders to the table, while she took a last sip of her drink.

“What’s these for?” I asked, as Zale took his seat on a chair across the other side, banging his fingers on his laptop.

“We’re launching a new product,” she said checking them out.

“And?”

“And we’re holding artist fairs to promote them.” The words slipped down her mouth almost effortlessly but I couldn’t help but frown deeply. How could she organise something so big without informing me even once. Did she not feel the need to?

“It includes me, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

I sighed, as she showed no signs to even care.

“Why didn’t you tell me at least?”

“Well,” she said getting up. “Now you know.”

And that was the threshold for me. For some reason I could never argue with my mother. It just never worked out well. So, for me it was always a good plan to escape—both the situation outside and the turmoil that I'd go through each such time.

“Let’s talk about it later,” I said, making my way out of the room.

Just as I was about to shut the door, I heard Amelia say, “Let him be, Lucia.” She had always been protective of me. Not as an aunt but as my own elder sister. At first I liked that in her but then I felt like being a burden on her. And that was when I felt the need to be able to take care of myself. I was a damn grownup!