A Very Large Expanse of Sea(59)

She smiled. Looked curiously at me. “I’m Ocean’s mom,” she said. “My name is Linda. You’re Shirin, right?”

Oh, I thought. Shit shit shit.

Oh shit.

I blinked at her. My heart was beating a staccato.

“Would you like to go for a ride?”





29

Twenty-Nine

“Listen,” she said, “I want to get this out of the way right upfront.” She glanced at me as she drove. “I don’t care about the differences in your backgrounds. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Okay,” I said slowly.

“But your relationship is causing Ocean a real problem right now, and I’d be an irresponsible mother if I didn’t try to make it stop.”

I almost laughed out loud. I didn’t think this was the thing that would turn her into an irresponsible mother, I wanted to say.

Instead, I said, “I don’t understand why everyone is having this conversation with me. If you don’t want your son to spend time with me, maybe you should be talking to him.”

“I tried,” she said. “He won’t listen to me. He’s not listening to anyone.” She glanced in my direction again. I suddenly realized I had no idea where we were going. “I was hoping,” she said, “that you would be more reasonable.”

“That’s because you don’t know me,” I said to her. “Ocean is the reasonable one in the relationship.”

She actually cracked a smile. “I’m not going to waste your time, I promise. I can tell that my son genuinely likes you. I don’t want to hurt him—or you, for that matter—but there are just things you don’t know.”

“Things like what?”

“Well,” she said, and took a deep breath, “things like—I’ve always relied on Ocean getting a basketball scholarship.” And then she looked at me, looked at me for so long I worried we’d crash into something. “I can’t risk him getting kicked off the team.”

I frowned. “Ocean told me he didn’t need a scholarship. He said that you had money set aside for him, for college.”

“I don’t.”

“What?” I stared at her. “Why not?”

“That’s really none of your business,” she said.

“Does Ocean know about this?” I said. “That you spent all his money for college?”

She flushed, unexpectedly, and for the first time, I saw something mean in her eyes. “First of all,” she said, “it’s not his money. It’s my money. I am the adult in our household, and for as long as he lives under my roof, I get to choose how we live. And second of all”—she hesitated—“my personal affairs are not up for discussion.”

I was floored.

I said, “Why would you lie about something like that? Why wouldn’t you just tell him that he has no money for college?”

Her cheeks had gone a blotchy, unflattering red, and her jaw was so tight I really thought she might snap and start screaming at me. Instead, she said, very stiffly, “Our relationship is strained enough as it is. I didn’t see the point in making things worse.” And then she pulled to a sudden stop.

We were in front of my house.

“How do you know where I live?” I said, stunned.

“It wasn’t hard to find out.” She put the car in park. Turned in her seat to face me. “If you get him kicked off the team,” she said, “he won’t be able to go to a good school. Do you understand that?” She was looking me full in the face now, and it was suddenly hard to be brave. Her eyes were so patronizing. Condescending. I felt entirely like a child. “I need you to tell me you understand,” she said. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” I said.

“I also need you to know that I don’t care where your family is from. I don’t care which faith you practice. Whatever you think of me,” she said, “I don’t want you to think I’m a bigot. Because I’m not. And I never raised my son to be that way, either.”

I could only stare at her now. My breaths felt short; sharp.

She was still talking.

“This is about more than taking a stand, okay? If you can believe it, I still remember what it was like to be sixteen. All those emotions,” she said, waving a hand. “It feels like the real deal. I actually married my high school sweetheart. Did Ocean tell you?”

“No,” I said quietly.

“Yes,” she said, and nodded. “Well. You see how well that worked out.”

Wow, I really hated her.

“I just want you to understand,” she said. “That this isn’t about you. This is about Ocean. And if you care about him at all—which I’m pretty sure you do—then you need to let him go. Don’t cause him all this trouble, okay? He’s a good boy. He doesn’t deserve it.”

I felt suddenly impotent with rage. I felt it dissolving my brain.

“I’m really glad we had this talk,” she said, and reached over me to push open my door. “But I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell Ocean it happened. I’d still like to salvage a relationship with my son.”

She sat back, the open door screaming at me to get out.