Too many cooks…
What's that saying? Too many cooks spoil the broth? I'm beginning to understand why now. My mom wants to get Luke in on this phone call too now. So he's Luke's nephew, so what?
I never really intended to tell my mother that I was in contact with him, it just happened, honest. In contact? Is that really the way to describe what we are? It was only the one phone call and I was so damn terrified of screwing everything up even more that I hardly said anything. So now who's the Tony Manaro wannabe, huh? Oh god, there I go again. James Dean-ing it.
Play it cool, fuck the consequences. So I spoke to him. Nice and casual…or so I like to think. General stuff, nothing to deep or accusing. Just how we are (lies, of course) and what's new in our lives (more lies…or rather, just omitting certain truths, like being proposed to). Keeping it all as light and flimsy as possible. I tell you, less substance in conversation is the way to go. We're gonna talk again next week. That's how my mom found out.
You know, sometimes I think I'm a lovesick seventeen-year-old all over again and it worries me. I'd drawn a heart around the date of our scheduled call on my calendar and not only is that giving me a severe case of the don't even get me started on the inferences of this, but it's downright teenage!
So of course my mom spotted it. Not so sharp when she's looking for the Pop Tarts but she's eagle-eyed when it comes to my…personal life. It was her graduation day all over again. Maybe you don't have a medical condition or a mental problem. Maybe, honey, you are falling for Jess. But she doesn't understand. I don't want to date him. I just want to fix things.
I think.
