Through the Break in Her Hair

Chapter 26

"Is that what you're going to wear?"

Mom was standing in the doorway of my room, leaning against the frame. Her smile, and eyes, were somewhere torn between joy and utter sadness. Conflicting emotions skewed her thoughts. She was happy for me, happy that her son had taken interest in a girl for the first time, but I think more than anything, she was terrified of losing me. Well, losing the boy, and gaining the man.

"Yeah, I guess," I shrugged in the floor length mirror. "You think I should wear something else?" Her tone alone gave that away, never mind the quiet mutterings of her mind.

Personally, I thought that my jeans and long sleeved T would cut it, but all that would change if I let mom dress me. My reflection would be sporting seamless khakis and a freshly pressed button down shirt, and while her fashion sense wasn't terrible, I just didn't feel like going all out on our first date. Besides, we were going to the mall...to walk around...with other shoppers. Not exactly a formal occasion.

"No," she tipped her head from side to side. "Not if you're comfortable in that."

"I am."

I gave the me in the mirror one final check. Hair—combed smooth, then pieced apart with putty, polo shirt—partially tucked in the front, but left undone in the back to give me that rebellious I-follow-no-man's-rule look, and my collar was popped, covering the pimple I found sneaking away from my face as it headed down my neck. God, I hated puberty. Cracking voice, spotted face, unpredictable visual stimulants that "woke me up," if you catch my drift. I couldn't even watch certain shampoo commercials without adjusting myself.

Mom crossed the threshold into my room, beelining for me. "I think we should go over the rules again, John," she said, sitting on the edge of my bed.

I groaned, spinning away from the mirror, and faced her. "I know the rules, mom! No leaving the premises, no hand holding, no talking to strangers, no kissing, no visiting the mattress store, not stuffing my face with more than one Cinnabon. Did I miss anything?"

I watched her tick each one off, her eyes skipping around the room as she ensured that all of her rules were recited perfectly. "Yes," she said finally. "That sounds about it." And even though she looked pleased with me, her thoughts were still tossing up the idea of letting me go...again.

I wanted her to know that nothing would happen, that I'd be fine going to the mall. But since the incident with my hands was only a week old, she hesitated letting me go to school alone. And now she would be dropping me off at a two-story mall, where I could slip, precariously over the edge of the railing, or get my shoe lace stuck in the escalator, or choke on a piece of General Tso's chicken. There were a lot of variables happening in that mind of hers.

I crossed the space between us, and sat next to her on my bed. "Mom," I said softly. "I'll be fine. I'm just going to hang out with Lindsey for a while to get her out of the house."

Mom nodded. When I approached them about going out with Lindsey, they immediately shut me down. I was "too young" to go on a date, and so was Lindsey for that matter. I didn't have a job to pay for anything on a date—food, entertainment, gifts, etc... But all that changed when I explained the reason behind it, the purpose in stealing her away for a few hours.

Although I tried to remain as vague as possible with what I saw in Lindsey's mind, mom was sharp. She caught onto how careful I was being with my words, how precise and clipped each sentence was-- giving just enough to connect the dots, but no more. She guessed, almost correctly, what was going on at the Sumners house.

"So... what are you and dad going to do while I'm gone?" I said, even though a pretty big part of me didn't want to know what my parents might do with a big empty house. The thought actually terrified me.