need to,” she says. “You’ve made it clear that you want to live with Sebastian, and I need to accept that.” She tucks some hair behind my ear. “Even though it’s hard for me, I trust you to do what’s right.”
“Thanks.”
She eyes me carefully. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of you having sex, but you’re eighteen—”
“Mom!” I cover my face. I feel like I’m fifteen. “Can we not talk about this?”
“I feel like we need to. You’re eighteen and are old enough to make your own decisions, but we need to talk about protecting your—”
“We’re not. Sebastian and I aren’t…we’re not.” I feel my face heat up. “So you don’t have to worry.”
“He’s sleeping in your bed.”
“Just sleeping, Mom. I don’t think he’s ready to take that next step.”
“Boys are always ready.”
I want to tell her that he’s different. That he doesn’t experience things the way most guys his age do, but I can’t.
“You just make sure you protect yourself all the time.”
“Mom…”
She looks into my eyes. “All the time.”
“Okay,” I mutter. “Got it. Now can we please forget about this? We have another day to spend together. Do you want it to be filled with awkwardness?”
She laughs lightly. “No.”
“Good.”
She takes my hand. “So you haven’t…”
I shake my head.
“With anyone?”
I shake my head again.
She squeezes my hand. “Make sure you do it with someone you truly love.”
I nod. I truly love Sebastian and I’d like to be even closer to him. Maybe not yet, though. I know he and I will never leave each other. We have time. Lots and lots of it.
“And make sure he doesn’t pressure you.”
“Mom…”
“Or hurt you.”
“Mom…”
“If you’re ever uncomfortable, you shouldn’t ignore—”
I put my hand on hers. “Thanks for all of this, but I’m going to be okay. And if or when it happens, I’ll make sure to take all precautions you taught me.”
She smiles sadly. “It’s hard for me to see you grow up, but I know I have to get used to it. Before I know it, you’ll be getting married and having kids.”
“Hold on, you’re thinking a bit too far into the future.”
She laughs. “Yes. You need to finish culinary school first.”
“Definitely.”
I haven’t thought about the whole marriage and kids thing. I feel like I’m not ready, not like Macy and Andy who are getting married in a few months. They’re prepared to take that step, and I’m very happy for them. But I need time. Of course I want to have a lifelong commitment to Sebastian, but it’s weird to think of myself as someone’s wife.
I internally shake my head. Why am I even thinking about this? It’s not like Sebastian and I ever spoke about this. Like I said, we’re going to have many, many, many years together.
I turn to Mom. “What about you?”
“What?”
“Any important men in your life?”
She waves her hand. “Oh, no. Never.”
“But why don’t you want to meet someone? Don’t you want to be happy? Maybe with George? I know he was more than a classmate, Mom.”
She sighs. “You’re right. He and I dated my sophomore and junior years.” I do the math in my head. If Mom dated this guy when she was around sixteen, then it doesn’t seem like he’s my dad. Mom was in her twenties when she had Daisy and me.
I decide to ask anyway. “Is he my dad?”
Her eyes meet mine. “No.”
I wait for her to elaborate, to perhaps tell me who my dad is. But she just sits there, staring at her hands that are wrapped around her coffee mug.
“You never speak about him,” I say, my voice low. I know the subject makes her uncomfortable. Daisy and I used to raise it many times when we were kids and she always got a look in her eyes, and we knew to stop. All she told us was that he walked out on us.
As hard as this is for her, I need to know who my dad is. “Is he alive?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I have a name?”
She doesn’t
“Thanks.”
She eyes me carefully. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of you having sex, but you’re eighteen—”
“Mom!” I cover my face. I feel like I’m fifteen. “Can we not talk about this?”
“I feel like we need to. You’re eighteen and are old enough to make your own decisions, but we need to talk about protecting your—”
“We’re not. Sebastian and I aren’t…we’re not.” I feel my face heat up. “So you don’t have to worry.”
“He’s sleeping in your bed.”
“Just sleeping, Mom. I don’t think he’s ready to take that next step.”
“Boys are always ready.”
I want to tell her that he’s different. That he doesn’t experience things the way most guys his age do, but I can’t.
“You just make sure you protect yourself all the time.”
“Mom…”
She looks into my eyes. “All the time.”
“Okay,” I mutter. “Got it. Now can we please forget about this? We have another day to spend together. Do you want it to be filled with awkwardness?”
She laughs lightly. “No.”
“Good.”
She takes my hand. “So you haven’t…”
I shake my head.
“With anyone?”
I shake my head again.
She squeezes my hand. “Make sure you do it with someone you truly love.”
I nod. I truly love Sebastian and I’d like to be even closer to him. Maybe not yet, though. I know he and I will never leave each other. We have time. Lots and lots of it.
“And make sure he doesn’t pressure you.”
“Mom…”
“Or hurt you.”
“Mom…”
“If you’re ever uncomfortable, you shouldn’t ignore—”
I put my hand on hers. “Thanks for all of this, but I’m going to be okay. And if or when it happens, I’ll make sure to take all precautions you taught me.”
She smiles sadly. “It’s hard for me to see you grow up, but I know I have to get used to it. Before I know it, you’ll be getting married and having kids.”
“Hold on, you’re thinking a bit too far into the future.”
She laughs. “Yes. You need to finish culinary school first.”
“Definitely.”
I haven’t thought about the whole marriage and kids thing. I feel like I’m not ready, not like Macy and Andy who are getting married in a few months. They’re prepared to take that step, and I’m very happy for them. But I need time. Of course I want to have a lifelong commitment to Sebastian, but it’s weird to think of myself as someone’s wife.
I internally shake my head. Why am I even thinking about this? It’s not like Sebastian and I ever spoke about this. Like I said, we’re going to have many, many, many years together.
I turn to Mom. “What about you?”
“What?”
“Any important men in your life?”
She waves her hand. “Oh, no. Never.”
“But why don’t you want to meet someone? Don’t you want to be happy? Maybe with George? I know he was more than a classmate, Mom.”
She sighs. “You’re right. He and I dated my sophomore and junior years.” I do the math in my head. If Mom dated this guy when she was around sixteen, then it doesn’t seem like he’s my dad. Mom was in her twenties when she had Daisy and me.
I decide to ask anyway. “Is he my dad?”
Her eyes meet mine. “No.”
I wait for her to elaborate, to perhaps tell me who my dad is. But she just sits there, staring at her hands that are wrapped around her coffee mug.
“You never speak about him,” I say, my voice low. I know the subject makes her uncomfortable. Daisy and I used to raise it many times when we were kids and she always got a look in her eyes, and we knew to stop. All she told us was that he walked out on us.
As hard as this is for her, I need to know who my dad is. “Is he alive?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can I have a name?”
She doesn’t
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