Room-maid(72)

“Is there a chance you just accept them for who they are and move on from there?” I couldn’t tell if Tyler was just trying to be helpful, or if subconsciously he was trying to defend his own choices when it came to his mother.

“I do accept them. I know them and understand them. Probably better than they realize. But this is not up to me. I don’t think they’ll change, no matter how much I want them to. They’ve made it clear that I’m not in charge of this relationship. They are. They make the decisions. And the only way I’ll be their daughter is if I do what they want when they want it. I’m not going to live my life that way anymore.”

“I respect that,” he said. “I know how hard that must be to realize.”

“In some ways it is, but in other ways it’s not. It makes me feel . . . free. Like the whole world has opened up to me in a way that it never was before.”

I put my glass in the sink and walked into the living room. I considered sitting down next to him, but I still felt a little edgy around him. “What have you been up to?”

“I was actually just going over my finances because I was hoping that I might be able to go down to Guatemala this year. I’ve done it in the past for this charity I work with. They build houses down there.”

Nodding, I said, “I know. I mean, I saw it on your Insta.” Then I realized how that would sound. Like I was cyberstalking him. I rushed to try and explain. “Frederica showed me your picture on Instagram when she was telling me about your apartment and then . . .” Then my best friends had gone through all his posts and shown them to me and that was creepy and I needed to shut up. “That sounds like it would be a nice trip. Maybe you could take Pigeon.”

My eyes went wide. Oh crap, I had just done it again. Referenced his Photoshopped pictures of him and Pigeon on Instagram, which I had also ogled.

He didn’t seem to notice. “I’d love to take her all over the world.” His eyes flicked up to mine and the intensity that I saw there made me feel like my heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest. “Traveling is always better when it’s with someone you care about. Maybe someday.”

I wrapped my arms around my chest. He wasn’t talking about me and I needed to stop hoping that he was. “When are you going?” I asked, fighting to get the words out.

His face fell at my question, the blue flame in his eyes dying out. “I can’t. My mom sent me an email today saying she wants to replace her car and have this elective procedure done and . . .”

His voice trailed off but I knew what he was saying. He was going to have to put aside his wants again so that his spoiled mother could have everything she wanted. How he couldn’t even have the job he really wanted because he had to earn enough money for her wish list. Having the career I wanted had been so important to me that it really upset me to think that Tyler was being trapped in the same way.

I knew I should stay quiet. This was none of my business. Even if I was telling him everything about my crazy life, it didn’t mean that he wanted to do the same. Or that he was interested in my advice. His situation wasn’t exactly like mine, and I should probably remember that.

But I couldn’t help myself. I saw a long, lonely road in front of him, one that I’d been headed down but had veered off. “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah. Of course.” He said it like I’d surprised him. As if it were a ridiculous thing to ask.

“I don’t want to be rude to you, and you’ve been a good friend to me, but I think because I’m on this truth-telling bender at the moment I want you to know that it would be okay for you to tell your mom you’re not going to bankroll her life any longer. It’s not a bad thing for an able-bodied adult woman to support herself.” I thought maybe I should stop there, but I’d already let the horses out of the barn, so I kept going. “You don’t have to cut her off completely. You could put her on a budget. You’re good at making those. And if she doesn’t like it . . . .well, I guess she could find a job. Or get married again. You should have the job you want and not care about whether it’s enough to support her. Or anyone else.”

That made him smile a little, and he asked, “Anyone else? What about if someday I end up with someone who expects me to be wealthy? Who came from money herself?”

Someone like me? It felt like he meant me. Which was obviously crazy. I wanted to ask, but didn’t. “Any woman who loves you, any woman who is worthy of your love, will not care what you do for a living. Only that you’re happy and doing what you want to be doing. And it would be one thing if you had this job because you were ambitious or because you wanted to make a lot of money. At least then it would have been your choice. But if you want to be a software engineer, you should be a software engineer. Go back to school. Do what you love. But don’t let somebody else take that decision away from you.”

“I’m a little too old to go back to school,” he said.

“There are plenty of people your age still in college.”

“Yeah. They’re called graduate students or doctors.”

Now that he was joking with me, I knew we were okay and that I hadn’t stepped too far over the line. “Your mother won’t like it. Mine certainly didn’t. But we’re supposed to grow up and be independent, right? I mean, if there’s one thing I learned from this Brad mess, and the blowout with my mother, it’s that drawing boundaries is okay.”