The Boss & The Assistant - Rewritten Edition of "The Boss"

Chapter 14 - Lafayette

 On Monday, my mother called me to see if she wanted to get lunch. She was in town for a doctor's appointment. It had been a few months since we last spoke, almost a year since we last saw each other. I agreed to it, telling Emerson to clear my calendar. We would meet at the restaurant she liked down the block from the office at noon.

The whole morning, I kept thinking of Emerson and the events of the weekend. I wanted to find out who had hurt him all those years ago, but I knew that would never happen because I wouldn't dare ask him. I didn't want to make him cry again. I thought about eight years ago. There was probably a time where we were both alone in our rooms, our lives not yet intersected, where we were feeling the same feelings. Violated, confused, lost. I wish I could have been there for him, but I was here now and so was he. A part of me couldn't believe I opened up to him, but it came so natural. Honestly, a part of me felt guilty for not telling my friends. There was just too much shame involved, but they probably would have pulled me out of the dark state I've been in for the last eight years.

A little before noon, I went into the reception area. "I will be heading out now," I said to Emerson. "My mother is probably already there."

"Oh, you didn't say you were meeting with your mom," he said, standing.

"Yes, she was in the city today," I said. "I haven't seen her in a while."

He stood next to me. This is something he did often. He didn't talk to someone from across the room. He kind of didn't have any understanding of personal space. When he stood closer to me, I thought of hugging him this past weekend. His body was softer than I expected. He was kind of a lanky guy so I assumed he would be a little bony, but he had felt soft in my arms, like a pillow. "That's fun," he said. "My mom was just saying she was thinking of visiting me some time, but I told her not to until next."

"What's next week?" I asked.

"Well, I move into my apartment, remember?"

"Oh, right," I said. He was moving in on Sunday.

"I just, you know, never mentioned the part where I am crashing at your house," he said. "I figured she would have thought it was odd."

"Right, understandable." I inhaled, making eye contact, but looking away when I exhaled. "Well, I'll be back in about an hour."

I met my mother in the restaurant. She was already seated at a table. Her gray hair mixed in with the dark blonde on her sleek bob. Her nails were a shiny red, like they always had been. She was dressed in a cashmere sweater, always cold, and had a diamond necklace I bought her years ago around her neck. She looked like she could fit in with the older woman on the upper east side, but deep down she was still the little girl that had grown up in the rough Bronx neighborhood. She only moved to East Harlem when she met my father, where my siblings and I all grew up.

"How was your doctor's appointment?" I asked.

"It was fine. The doctor says I have osteoarthritis," she said.

"That's treatable, right? Are you in pain?"

"I'm okay right now, and it's manageable."

The waiter came over so we ordered our food. She got a cobb salad. I got a steak with mashed potatoes and green beans.

"How is work?" she asked.

"Fine. Same as usual," I said. She didn't really care to talk about my job. "How is Dad?"

"He's good," she said. She took a drink of her water with lemon. "He was playing a game of pickleball when I left."

"Good. Good to see him active," I said. I hadn't talked to dad in almost a year, not since the last time I saw both him and Mom in person.