The Trouble Is

Chapter 24: The "L" Thing

If you asked me a year ago, even two months ago, if I could picture myself falling in love, the answer would have been an emphatic, capital "N-O." But that was when the only boys around were the same ones that had been there since kindergarten. And the ones who had turned out to be even remotely hot in high school either had solid significant others (also known as SOs), were in to guys, or were on Katie's list of guys she would like to do whatever with.

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Katie says when I tell her how much East means to me.

Mom, as always, worries a bit.

"I know you probably feel a lot of things for East," she says.

It's Tuesday morning and too early for Katie to be out of bed. Doug and Skip are headed to devour the pancake special at Denny's. There will be all the coffee you can drink for Skip and all the whipped topping and chocolate chips that Doug can handle. It's just Mom and me this morning, sitting at the kitchen table, eating English muffins and Nutella. That means that there are no distractions. The house is quiet, the morning chores are done. There's no escaping this little convo.

"Tell me about him," she says, then turns it into a question, "please?"

"OK," I say between mouthfuls of creamy Nutella and perfectly toasted muffins. "What is it you want to know?"

I think about the list of things that I want in a boyfriend. East meets almost all of the items on the list. The only one in question is the singing. The list includes being able to sing. Oh, he sings. He sings all the time. I love it, but it's best to say that he loves music so meets the requirement's intent.

"I don't really know," she says. "I respect your privacy but can't help wanting to be included a bit. I just want to know that he's a thoughtful person, that he takes care in his relationships, that he is a good citizen. I know that all sounds terribly corny. I don't mean that he votes in presidential elections. Just an all-around good citizen thing."

I tell her the truth.

"He is all of those things and more," I say. "He loves music but sings not-quite-so-well. He works at the summer camp and takes care of his uncle's place out by the lake. He opens doors and pulls out chairs and all those things.

"I've never known anyone like him. And I appreciate the fact that you are not rolling your eyes at me right now, Mom. I know I'm young, yada yada yada. You don't have to say anything about that."

Mom laughs a little and agrees that we both know my age.