“I see,” I said softly.
“Don’t take it personally,” Talia continued, warming to her theme. “It’s just that Darren and I are trying to build something here. We’re young. We’re ambitious. And we can’t be constantly worried about supporting someone who won’t even try to support herself.”
Won’t even try.
The words echoed in my mind as I looked at this woman who’d never worked a day in her life, who spent her husband’s paycheck on designer handbags and spa treatments, who lived in a house she didn’t know I owned while lecturing me about self-sufficiency.
“Thalia,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes?”
I looked directly into her eyes, and for the first time in 3 years, I let her see something real.
Something that made her lean back slightly in her chair.
“You have no idea what’s coming for you.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Darren shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Thalia’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air.
“Excuse me?” she finally managed.
I stood up slowly, my movements deliberate and controlled.
“Thank you for dinner. The lasagna was exactly what I expected.”
I walked to the front door, my footsteps echoing in the sudden quiet.
Behind me, I could hear Thalia’s sharp whisper.
“Did she just threaten me?”
At the door, I turned back.
Both of them were staring at me from the dining room doorway. Darren looked confused. Thalia looked rattled.
“Oh, and Thalia,” I said, my hand on the door knob. “About that job advice.”
“What about it?”
I smiled.
It wasn’t a warm smile.
“You might want to start updating your own resume.”
3 days passed before Darren called.
I’d been expecting it, of course.
Talia wouldn’t have let him rest until he’d gotten some answers about my bizarre behavior at dinner.
I was in my small apartment, sitting by the window with my morning coffee, when the phone rang.
“Mom.”
His voice was cautious, like he was speaking to someone who might be unstable.
“Can we talk?”
“Of course, sweetheart. Would you like to come over?”
There was a pause.
In 3 years, Darren had never once visited my apartment.
He’d offered to help me move in, but I’d declined. He’d suggested stopping by for coffee, but there was always some excuse from Thalia about why that wouldn’t work.
Now, faced with the possibility of actually seeing how his mother lived, he sounded uncertain.
“I… Yes. Okay, I’ll be there in an hour.”
I spent the next 60 minutes preparing for the most important conversation I’d had with my son in years.
I made his favorite coffee, the expensive kind I kept hidden in the back of my cupboard.
I put away the financial documents I’d been reviewing.
I changed from my usual thrift store cardigan into something slightly nicer, though still carefully modest.
When he arrived, Darren looked around the small apartment with barely concealed pity.
One bedroom, a tiny kitchen, furniture that looked like it had come from yard sales, which technically some of it had. The rest I’d bought specifically to create this impression.
“Mom, this place is…”
He struggled for words.
“Small?” I suggested.
“I was going to say depressing.”
I poured him coffee in one of my good cups.
Another little luxury I kept hidden from view most of the time.
He took a sip and looked surprised.
“This is really good coffee.”
“I splurge occasionally.”
We sat across from each other at my small kitchen table.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Darren cleared his throat.
“About Friday night.”
“Yes?”
“Thalia’s really upset. She thinks you threatened her.”
I met his eyes steadily.
“What do you think?”
He shifted in his chair.
“I think… I think something’s going on with you that I don’t understand. You’ve been different lately. Distant. And then Friday. The way you looked at Thalia. The things you said.”
“The things I said were true.”
“What does that mean, Mom? You told her she has no idea what’s coming for her. That sounds like a threat.”
I took a sip of my coffee, considering my words carefully.
The time for complete honesty hadn’t arrived yet, but I could offer him a glimpse behind the curtain.
“Darren, do you remember what your father used to say about people who mistake kindness for weakness?”
“He said they learned the difference eventually.”
“Exactly.”
I set down my cup.
“For 3 years, I’ve been kind, patient. I’ve watched your wife treat me like a burden, an embarrassment, a problem to be solved. I’ve listened to her suggestions about how I should live my life, what I should do with my time, how I should dress, what I should eat.”
Darren looked uncomfortable.
“She’s just trying to help.”
“Is she? Or is she trying to make me disappear in the most socially acceptable way possible?”
“Mom, that’s not—”
“Let me ask you something.”
I leaned forward.
“When was the last time Thalia asked me how I was doing? Not how I was managing financially, not whether I needed help with bills, but how I was actually doing as a person?”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“When was the last time she asked about my interests, my hobbies, my friends? When was the last time she treated me like a human being instead of an inconvenience?”