…or, A Mother Knows
“Don’t you dare change the subject!” my mother said. “Your father laughed when I sent you that money. He was sure you were going to blow it on something, but I said—”
“Wait, I just got the money,” I said. “Now. Right now.”
“I said we should trust you to be responsible.”
“Uh, Mom, how much platinum do you think twenty silver would buy, exactly?” I asked.
“I told you not to change the subject,” she said. “I sent that money so you wouldn’t have to worry about where your next meal is coming from when you’re supposed to be studying.”
I had a meal plan, but if that was her reasoning for sending me a sock drawer full of silver out of the blue I wasn’t going to argue with her.
“What do you want me to say, Mom?” I asked.
“I want you to say you’re sorry for disappointing me,” she said. “And making me look like a fool.”
“I’m sorry for disappointing you, and I’m very, very, very sorry for making you look like a fool,” I said.
“Well, thank you for saying so, at least,” she said.
“Now can I say something else?”
“Of course you can.”
“I just now got the package and got it open, and the first thing I did after seeing what you sent me was come to thank you for it,” I said. She didn’t say anything, so I added, “I haven’t spent any of the money.” Then, because it was technically true, I also told her, “I even thought about opening a bank account with it.”
You might think that by the time somebody has their fifty-second birthday, they might be mature enough to admit a mistake. Then again, you probably have a mother.
“Well, why didn’t you say something?” she asked. “Honestly, Jamie, do you enjoy making me look foolish?”
“In my defense, I did apologize for that,” I said. I tried not to smirk, but I didn’t try hard enough.
“Don’t get clever with me, young man,” she said. She waved her hand at my head. “So, if you didn’t blow all your money, where did all that come from?”
“They were a gift,” I said.
“From who?”
“Uh, somebody I’m seeing,” I said.
“Wait, did you say you have a boyfriend?”
“Uh, yeah, but I don’t really want to have that conversation right here,” I said.
“You didn’t dump Marlot, did you?”
“Mom, we were never dating,” I said.
We’d gone over this before, and I had thought she’d gotten it, if only because she’d switched from asking me if I was dating Marlot so people wouldn’t think I was gay to asking me if I was hanging out with her for that reason. However that was supposed to work.
“Yes, but that’s no excuse to just leave her out in the cold now that you have a boyfriend,” she said. “I told her mother that she should be ready for this, that once you got out of Agora you’d come out of your shell and then you wouldn’t need her any more.”
“What exactly do you think I needed Marlot for in the first place?” I asked.
“Jamie, that’s a horrible thing to say,” she said. “I know she’s a little funny, but she’s a sweet girl, and she does have feelings.”
I’d run into the “what exactly do you see in Marlot?” thing from other people, but only my mother felt the need to instruct me in the answer.
“Mom, I have to go,” I said. “I’ll a-mail you later, okay?”
“Wait! Do you need to talk to Grandpa?”
“Is he there?” I asked.
“No, but do you need him to explain anything?”
There were a lot of things I would have liked to have explained, but I didn’t think her dad would be able to make any more sense of what she was saying than I could.
“Like what?”
“How the sex works,” she said, switching to her native tongue.
“What?”
“With boys,” she said, back in Pax.
“I, uh, worked that out for myself,” I said. Something caught the corner of my eye, and I turned to see Missy looking in through the window in the stairwell door. Her face lit up when she saw mine, and the handle of the door began to turn. “Seriously, thanks for the package, but I have to run. Bye.”
I started to wave her reflection away as Missy came onto the landing and headed over.
“Okay. Bye, Jamie, I love you!” she said, kissing the air before she vanished.
“Who was she?” Missy asked.
“My mother,” I said.
“What, for real?”
“For real,” I said.
“Wow, how old was she when she had you?”
“Thirty-three,” I said.
“And I thought my mom was hooked on glamour,” Missy said. I rolled my eyes. “What?”
“That’s my mother,” I said.
“Oh, I don’t mean anything,” she said. “You should hear the things I say to my own.”
“No, I mean, that’s my mother, the person from whom I inherited my elven blood,” I said.
“Oh! Right, I wasn’t thinking,” she said. “So, are you going to look that good when you’re fifty?”
“Probably not quite that good,” I said. “I’ve got another dose of human blood in me, remember?”
“Yeah, that sucks,” Missy said. “Your mom should have married an elf. Then you could live for a lot longer.”
“Except for the whole not-being-born thing,” I said.
“Why wouldn’t you be born?”
“Because that would mean my parents would never have had sex,” I said.
“No, you’d just have different parents,” she said. “The mom you have now and a full-elven father.”
“So, what if instead marrying my mom, my new father married an elven woman?” I asked. “Then I could be a full elf.”
“Yeah, that would be even—hey, don’t make fun of me,” she said, punching me in the shoulder.
“I’m not,” I said. “I just don’t think hypothetical alternate parents work the way you think they do. I mean, if my dad had married a human woman, would that make me full human?”
“Well, yeah. Wouldn’t it?”
“But at the same time my mom’s marrying the elf guy,” I said. “So how does that work? Am I the human or the mostly-elf kid?”
“Well, since your mom actually gives birth to you, I guess that means you’re the elf one,” she said.
“But if she went out and got with that same elf guy now and had a son, that wouldn’t be me,” I said.
“No, because you’re already born,” she said. “Don’t look at me like I’m stupid. Haven’t you ever wished you had different parents?”
“I’ve wondered about it,” I said. “I might have imagined it when I was little. But that doesn’t change the fact that if my parents had gotten together with different people, they would have different kids.”
“Okay, but if this is hypothetical, why can’t it work the way I say it would?” she asked.
“No real reason, I guess,” I said.
“Then, wouldn’t it be cool if your dad was an elf and you were going to live for hundreds of years?”
“I suppose it would be,” I said, tired of the whole thing. When Marlot got an odd and impossible idea in her head, it was at least entertaining and usually well thought-out. “Where’s Marlot?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen her since yesterday,” Missy said.
“Wait, she didn’t ever come back last night?” I asked.
“Uh, I’m pretty sure that was her plan,” Missy said.
“It’s not like her to stay out all night,” I said. “And even if she did, don’t you think she would be back by now?”
“Oh? When did you get back?”
“Just a bit ago,” I said. “But, that’s different.”
“You aren’t jealous, are you?” she asked. “Because I’d hate to think that you’re, you know, into Marlot. That would just get awkward.”
“No, I’m not jealous,” I said. “I’m just concerned about my friend who doesn’t have a lot of experience with guys. I find it odd that she’s suddenly changed into somebody who spends the night with guys she just met and I’m worried that she’s getting in over her head. How do you get jealousy out of any of that?”
“Um, never mind,” Missy said. “So, how about you? How did your date go?”
“Pretty good,” I said. “Iason bought me a house.”
“Oh my kosh, really?”
“Really,” I said. “I just decided to wear it on my ears for a while.”
She stared at me. I turned my head to the side. Her mouth widened.
“Iason bought all that?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Wow, what else did he get you?”
“What else did he get me?” I asked. Weren’t precious stones set in platinum enough?
“Yeah, what else?”
“A tattoo. Oh, and a music box.”
“You got a tattoo?” she asked, looking up and down my body. “Where? What of?”
“A dragon,” I said. “We’ll have to go to my room if you want to see it.”
Her eyes went wide and she grinned slyly.
“Okay,” she said, and we cut through the lounge towards my room.
I wondered if she thought I was making up a pretext. I kind of hoped she didn’t. I hadn’t had much rest, and the longer I talked to her the wearier I felt.
Once we were alone inside, I started to pull my shirt off. I realized she was staring at my belt buckle. I stopped. A puzzle piece fell into place in my brain, and I realized what she must be thinking.
“It isn’t on my junk,” I said.
“Oh! You said he got you a dragon tattoo, so I thought you got it to match his,” she said.
“Yeah, no,” I said. “I don’t really think my equipment needs any adornments.”
I took off my shirt and turned around.
“Oh, wow, that’s so pretty!” she said.
“Isn’t it?” I said. Since we’d established that it was a female dragon, I didn’t mind the adjective so much. “I call it Vera.”
She gasped.
“What?”
“You can’t name your tattoo after the empress,” she said. “That’s blasphemy.”
“It’s not blasphemy,” I said, turning around to face her. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s blasphemy to say it’s blasphemy.”
“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s got to be illegal, or even worse, rude,” she said.
“Rude is worse than illegal now?” I asked.
“It is when you’re talking about the imperial family,” she said.
“Okay, well whenever they’re around, we’ll say she’s called Sophia, or something,” I said. “Anyway, I didn’t name my tattoo after the empress. I named it after a dragon.”
I explained about the concert, working my way back through dinner and the carriage ride while Missy’s expression alternated between disbelief and excitement.
“Wow, you hit the freaking jackpot with Iason, you know that?” she said when I’d finished.
“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” I said.
“You don’t think they’re real?” she asked.
“I’m pretty sure they are,” I said. “It’s Iason I’m not sure about.”
“Why?”
“Well, he says he expects me to spend the rest of my life with him,” I said.
I waited for her to respond, but she just stood there. After a moment, she made a “go on” gesture with her hand.
“That’s it,” I said. “That’s what bothers me.”
“Why? The guy’s a keeper,” she said. “I mean, look at it: he’s loaded, he’s committed, and he’s not exactly hard to look at.”
“Okay, but, personality?”
“What’s wrong with his personality?”
“He’s got some rough edges,” I said.
“Well, you’ve got your whole life to work those out for him,” she said. “Anyway,” she said, putting her hand on my arm and “walking” her fingernails down it as she spoke, “did you have any other work done?”
“No,” I said. “Just the tattoo and the earrings. Oh, but if you think the tattoo’s cool, I’ll have a real surprise in a week or so.”
“Oh,” she said. “Oh, well. Since you’ve got your shirt off, anyway, do you want to—”
“I’m actually kind of tired, Missy,” I said. “I’d like to get some sleep.”
“Iason keep you ‘up’?” she asked.
“Yeah, actually.”
“Okay, I’ll be quick, then,” she said, reaching for my belt.
“I’m really tired,” I said. She looked confused. “Missy, I don’t feel like sex right now.” That didn’t seem to add up for her any more clearly. “I’ll see you tonight, for the dance, but right now I need to get some sleep.”
“Oh,” she said. “Okay. So, you don’t want sex right now?”
“Not right now,” I said.
“Okay,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you later, then.”
“Yeah. Later.”
“Oh, but, you have to remind me to tell you what I heard,” she said.
“What did you hear?” I asked, not really caring.
“Oh, no, mister,” she said, wagging her finger. “If I have to wait, so do you. It’s so wild, though. You’ll flip when you hear it, even if it probably isn’t true.”
“What’s it about?” I asked, my curiosity a little piqued.
“You know that greasy haired girl?” she said. “The skinny one who was dating that fat girl Puddy for like five days? I found out why she’s in Harlowe. Maybe. It can’t be true, though.”
“Maybe because she’s not human?” I said.
“Smartass,” Missy said. She kissed me on the cheek. “Anyway, I’ll let you stew over that for a while.”
Once she was gone, I didn’t really spare another thought for her or for the Harlowe girl. I had to move the packages off my bed, and decided to take the music box out and put it on my dresser. With it standing next to the glowing flower display, my mind turned towards Iason.
He was hotness made flesh, and his attention made me feel good. He drove me crazy even when he was driving me crazy. Strangely, I got rock hard just thinking about his hand on my arm when I was getting in and out of carriages.
Sleep wasn’t going to work like that, obviously, but instead of jerking off like normal I climbed into bed and lay on my stomach. Imagining him pressing down on top of me, I strained myself against the mattress until I came shuddering as the music of Strings and Wings and Things played softly all around me.
I didn’t know if Iason really was a “keeper”, but I could hang onto him until I was sure one way or the other.
