Look Both Ways(74)

I get to the bistro early so I’ll have some time to compose myself, but Mom is already there when I arrive. She looks so happy to see me that I wish I could freeze this moment and seal it in a glass jar, so I could take it out and stare at it in the future when nothing is the same between us anymore. I love her fiercely, and I know she loves me back, but sometimes love isn’t enough to mask disappointment.

Mom springs to her feet, throws her arms around me, and rocks me back and forth. “It’s so good to see you,” she says. “It feels like it’s been forever, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” I say. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Of course we’re here! We wouldn’t miss our girl’s first performance in Legrand for anything.”

“Where’s Dad?” I ask.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes—he’s parking the car. Sit down, sit down.”

I do, and Mom settles in across from me and pours me water from the carafe on the table. “Is Zoe on her way?” she asks.

I’ve been so focused on the other conversation I need to have with my parents that I completely forgot that they thought Zoe was joining us tonight. I consider telling my mom my “girlfriend” is busy—at least I could save face in one small way—but it’ll hardly make a difference in light of the huge bomb I’m about to drop on her. I might as well come clean about everything.



“Zoe’s not coming,” I say. “We broke up.”

My mom looks stricken. “Oh no! When did that happen?”

Five days, eighteen hours, and six minutes ago, reports my brain, but my mouth says, “Earlier this week.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Was it because of her boyfriend? I know they have an open relationship, but men can be so possessive.”

“No, it had nothing to do with him. I just…couldn’t do it anymore.”

The sympathy on my mom’s face morphs into exasperation, and my stomach turns over; I’ve been here all of two minutes, and things are already starting to go sour. “Oh, Brookie, no,” she says. “I know dating women is new for you, but Zoe’s such a remarkable girl, and you can’t let someone like that slip away just because you’re nervous!”

“It’s not because I was nervous,” I say. “And it’s not because she’s a girl, either. I’m not saying I’ll never like a girl. But I wasn’t into her the way I thought. I really tried, but it didn’t work out.” That explanation still doesn’t feel like enough, so I add, “I’m sorry.”

Mom puts on the patient voice she uses when she’s explaining a vocal exercise to a small child. “Things don’t always come easily at first when you’re dating someone new. You have to give it a chance. Relationships take time and work. You had to work with Jason, didn’t you? And Zoe’s such a better investment. She has all her priorities in order, and she’s absurdly talented, and she would fit in so well with our family—”



“But none of that matters if I’m not attracted to her,” I say. “I know it’s not the only part of being in a relationship, but it has to be a part, right?”

“It’s only been a few weeks! That’s not nearly enough time to figure out what you want. If you stick it out for the rest of the summer, I think—”

“Stop,” I say. “Please just stop, okay? It’s already done. And I love you, but you don’t get any say in this.”

My mom blinks a couple of times, like it has never occurred to her that some things aren’t her business. I can tell there’s a lot more she wants to say, but she manages to swallow down the words. “Fine,” she says. “We won’t talk about it right now. Let’s talk about why—”

Behind me, the door swings open, and I hear my dad’s voice say, “Hey, Brookie.” I jump up to hug him, grateful for the momentary reprieve, and that’s when I realize he’s not alone. My entire family is here, grinning at me from the doorway of the bistro. Uncle Harrison in his pink madras shorts. Desi with Twyla in his arms, and Jermaine, holding Sutton by the hand. Marisol, beaming and exhausted, with a tiny new baby strapped to her chest. Christa, toting the second twin in one of those car seats with a handle. A third woman, who looks like an older version of Christa, stands a few steps behind everyone with a giant diaper bag.

“Oh my God,” I say. “What are you guys doing here?”

“What do you think, silly?” Marisol says. “We’re here to see your Allerdale debut!”

“We’re so proud of you,” says my dad as he wraps me in his arms. I inhale his familiar wintergreen smell, and all of a sudden, I’m dangerously close to tears. My whole family came all this way to celebrate with me as I finally emerge from my chrysalis and open my shiny new wings on the Legrand stage. And instead, they’re about to find out I haven’t transformed into a talented, confident performer at all—and worse yet, that I never will. I can’t believe I have to disappoint everyone at once.



I make the rounds and hug them all, and Christa introduces me to her mom, who’s here to watch the kids while she and Marisol come to the show. The baby in the car seat wakes up and starts flailing its tiny arms and legs, and I lean over and stare into two big blue eyes. “This one’s Jasmine,” Christa says. “Do you want to hold her?”