Mrs. Fletcher(5)

I’m not your mom, Eve thought, smiling with excruciating politeness at the officious little shit. If she had been his mother, she would have advised him to lose the hat. Sweetie, she would have told him, you look like a moron. But she took a deep breath and tried to appeal to his humanity.

“I’m a single parent,” she explained. “He’s my only child. This is a big deal for us.”

By this point, Brendan had tuned in to the negotiation. He turned and glared at Eve.

“Mom.” His voice was clipped and tense. “Go park the car. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

The crew leader patted her on the arm.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her. “We’ll take good care of your baby.”

*

The Visitors Lot was only a short drive away, but the walk back to Einstein took longer than she’d expected. By the time she made it up to Brendan’s room on the seventh floor, he was already in full-tilt male bonding mode with his new roommate, Zack, a broad-shouldered kid from Boxborough with a narrow, neatly trimmed beard that hugged his jawline like a chin strap, the same ill-advised facial hair that Brendan had sported for most of senior year. They were wearing identical outfits, too—flip-flops, baggy shorts, tank tops, angled baseball caps—though Zack had spiced up his ensemble with a puka shell necklace.

He seemed nice enough, but Eve had to work to conceal her disappointment. She’d hoped that Brendan would get a more exotic roommate, a black kid from inner-city Boston, or a visiting student from mainland China, or maybe a gay guy with a passion for musical theater, someone who would expand her son’s horizons and challenge him to move beyond his suburban comfort zone. Instead he’d gotten paired with a young man who could have been his long-lost brother, or at least a teammate on the Haddington High lacrosse team. When she arrived, the boys were admiring their matching mini-fridges.

“We could dedicate one to beer,” Zack suggested. “The other could be for non-beer shit, lunch meat and whatever.”

“Totally,” agreed Brendan. “Milk for cereal.”

“Arizonas.” Zack fingered his puka shells. “Might be cool if we stacked one on top of the other. Then it would be like one medium-sized fridge with two compartments. Give us more floor space that way.”

“Sweet.”

Eve went straight to work, putting sheets and blankets on Brendan’s bed and organizing his closet and dresser just the way they were at home, so he wouldn’t be disoriented. Neither boy paid much attention to her—they were strategizing about maybe lofting one of the beds and moving a desk underneath, freeing up enough space for a couch, which would make it easier to play video games—and she told herself that it was completely natural for a mother to be ignored in a situation like this. This was their room and their world; she was an outsider who would soon be on her way.

“Where would we get a couch?” Brendan wondered.

“People just leave ’em out on the street,” Zack explained. “We can go out later and pick one up.”

“Is that sanitary?” Eve asked. “They could have bedbugs.”

“Mom.” Brendan silenced her with a head shake. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

Zack stroked his beard like a philosopher. “We could cover it with a sheet, just to be on the safe side.”

It was almost five thirty by the time Eve got everything unpacked. She saved the area rug for last, positioning it between the two beds so no one’s feet would be cold on winter mornings. It was a nice homey touch.

“Not bad,” she said, glancing around with satisfaction. “Pretty civilized for a dorm room.”

Brendan and Zack nodded in that subdued male way, as if they could barely rouse themselves to express agreement, let alone gratitude.

“Who wants dinner?” she asked. “Pizza’s on me.”

A quick, wary glance passed between the roommates.

“You know what, Mom? A bunch of guys from the floor are going out in a little while. I’ll probably grab some food with them, okay?”

Jesus, Eve thought, a sudden warmth flooding her face. That was quick.

“Sure,” she said. “Go ahead. Enjoy yourselves.”

“Yeah,” Brendan added. “This way you won’t have to drive home in the dark.”

“All right, then.” Eve scanned the room, searching fruitlessly for another task. “Looks like that’s it.”

No one contradicted her.

“Okay.” She smoothed Brendan’s bedspread one last time. She had a slightly dizzying sense of being overtaken by time, the future becoming the present before she was ready. “Guess I better be going.”

Brendan walked her to the elevators. It wasn’t an ideal place to say goodbye—too many kids milling around, including a crew of student movers pushing an empty bin—but there was nothing they could do about that.

“Oh, by the way . . .” Eve fumbled in her purse and found the cash she’d withdrawn that morning. She pressed the bills into Brendan’s hand, then gave him a fierce hug and a quick kiss. “Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

She hugged him again when the elevator arrived. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Me too.”