“Sorry,” she says. “That was rude.” She offers Elizabeth her hand. “You must be one of Laurie’s friends from school. I’m his mother. Would you like to join us for dinner?”
Chapter 28
I GET THAT MY MOM doesn’t know I have an invisible boyfriend whose grandfather is a maniacal black magic user. I get that she doesn’t know said crazy evildoer is in town, was in our building, is the reason Central Park is shut down. But I don’t have the patience for this.
“Ha, ha,” I say. “I know I’ve been out a lot, but come on.”
“I’m sorry?” Mom frowns; she’s looking at me like she’s trying to figure something out.
Laurie, ever the mediator, steps between me and Mom. “So what’s on the menu? Chinese? Italiano? Or perhaps the elusive, yet scrumptious, homemade mac and cheese?”
Mom’s face falls a bit. “Oh.” She glances at me with an “I’m a bad mother and hostess” face. “If I’d known you were bringing a guest, I would have . . . but work.”
“Mom!” I break in. “Please. You know we don’t expect you to cook. This is the twenty-first century. You’re supporting our family in Manhattan by yourself. Forget the mac and cheese.”
“Ummm.” Mom looks at me like she doesn’t know if she should laugh or scold me. Her gaze turns pleadingly to Laurie.
“Introductions?” she asks, and she forces a smile in my direction. Her eyes are on me, curious, confused. Unknowing.
It doesn’t sink in until I feel Stephen’s hands on my shoulders. The trembling begins in my own hands but quickly overtakes my arms, legs. I managed to keep it out of my face, knowing a trembling lip is a two-second prelude to tears.
Mom doesn’t know who I am. She looks at me and sees a stranger.
For Mom’s memory to be erased, there must have been an eraser. Here. In our home.
Maxwell Arbus didn’t only visit his grandson. He took the time to stop by my apartment and leave a parting gift.
I stare at Mom, knowing that to her it must be awkward and inappropriate, but I can’t help believing that if I gaze at her long enough, she’ll know who I am. She has to know me.
Please, Mom. Please.
Mom manages to hold on to her smile, though it’s become uncertain. I can no longer bear looking at her, so I look at my shoes.
Laurie doesn’t miss a beat. “Come on, Mom.” He speaks in an exaggerated, game-show host voice. “It’s family dinner.”
“Oh!” Mom gives Laurie a huge, approving smile. “You’re acting—this is a homework exercise, right? Are you two siblings in a scene that you have to perform?”
Touching his finger to his nose, Laurie grins at her. He quickly shoots me an I’m-so-sorry-but-what-the-hell-else-can-we-do glance. Beneath his white flash of teeth, I see the twitch of panic in his face.
Mom laughs, clapping in delight. “What fun! Now I have a son and a daughter. Whose name is . . .”
“Elizabeth,” Laurie offers.
“What a lovely name.”
I force myself to look up.
Mom smiles at me, then glances over her shoulder into the waiting apartment. “I hope I remembered correctly that you love your Chinese takeout spicy and vegetarian.”
“That’s me.” Returning her smile is painful. I want to scream, It’s me! I want to hug her and shake her and plead until she can recall that my favorite ice cream is peppermint bonbon, that the only time I sing is along with the radio on road trips, and that I’ve pledged myself to a career that will likely mean she’s forever underwriting my life.
But Mom can only look on me with the kind, polite reserve of a stranger.
Stephen leans in, whispering, “I’m right here. I’ll be right here the whole time.”
That’s when I realize I can’t do what I want. I can’t run from the building, not stopping until I get to Millie’s and demand that she fix my mom, my life. Instead I have to sit in an apartment that belongs to my family and be treated like I’m a stranger passing through because of Laurie’s homework assignment.
I wish I could stop seeing the curse. Once I knew it was there I can’t shut my awareness of it off. Bursts of light appear in a steady pulse, hovering before my mother’s eyes. Blinding her like an unending camera flash. I know I could draw the curse, but I can see it’s been created to last—which means it would take a serious toll on me. Or kill me. Knowing that a confrontation with Arbus could happen at any time, without warning, I can’t afford to be weakened by attempting to free my mom’s mind. Soon I can’t look at my mother. The flashes make my eyes burn and my head ache.
Mom waves us in. Laurie gives my hand an encouraging squeeze before following her. My shoes feel like cinder blocks as I force one foot to follow the other through the door. Stephen wraps his arms around my waist, taking each step with me. I wonder if he’s afraid I’ll collapse or if he’s just as unsettled by this new twist in our misadventures as I am.
I grit my teeth when I see the table. Boxes of takeout Chinese are already open, waiting, steam rising from within. Two places have been set. Mom hurries to add a plate for me, her unexpected daughter.
Robotically, I settle into the chair in front of the hastily arranged place setting. Stephen remains beside me. It’s a good thing Laurie has acting chops. He keeps Mom occupied, regaling her with stories about school and teen hijinks across Manhattan. I try to throw on the actor’s mantle too. Supplying nods, forcing laughs, and adding short embellishments to Laurie’s tales, I keep up with the ruse. I focus on Laurie and not Mom.
Until Mom beams at me and says, “I’m sorry to break character, but I have to tell you how lovely this is. I always wondered what it would be like to have a daughter.”
I become a statue, feeling blood drain from my face and my fingers go icy. Even Laurie flinches, strangling on words he can’t get out. Stephen kneels beside me, folding my hand in both of his. He can’t speak, not without Mom hearing, but he kneads my fingers, coaxing life back into my frozen limbs.
Finally, Laurie blurts, “As if I’m not enough!”
Mom, whose brow had begun to furrow in concern as she watched me, quickly turns to Laurie with a laugh. “Oh, sweetie, you know that’s not what I meant.”
Laurie faux pouts and Mom clucks affection at him.