“George is moving in with us tomorrow,” Mom declares, bursting into my room without knocking after returning from her first solo counseling session.
Mom has been seeing this guy George steadily for six months now but I’ve steadily been seeing right through him, trusting that one day Mom would see through him, too.
And break up with him.
It’s not because I still want my Mom and Dad to get back together, either. Believe me I’ve long since given up on that ever happening.
“Toni, did you hear what I said?”
Mom twists around towards my sister Toni’s room, putting her earrings on as she talks. I follow behind Mom, duck past her through Toni’s doorway, and tuck my body in tight at the corner of Toni’s bed ready to join forces with her if need be. My sister is evidently too absorbed in her teen magazine to react to my presence.
“Great. My life’s already miserable. Why not invite George into the mess.” Toni pipes up without looking up, appearing to be making progress on reading her magazine. She hates George too.
“It’s best that you learn about how to cope early in life. It can only help you later on.” Mom says for the umpteen millionth time. “And give me that magazine.”
Toni and I exchange looks of disgust.
I try to remember what my school janitor Frank said about every person being important in their own way. Maybe Mom's boyfriend will fit in to our house just fine. I get a light feeling when I think of that janitor Frank’s kindness and optimism. He taught me to see the best in people -- to give them the benefit of the doubt. Who knows, George might even lighten Mom up a little.
“Scram!” Mom makes a sweeping motion with her hands in the direction of our rooms when George’s black convertible mustang glides into our driveway, rumbling loud. “Let George settle in for a few minutes before you come out for dinner.”
Toni, Grandma and me know by now that when Mom issues an order, you dive into action or else.
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