It's Complicated (44 page)

Everyone at the table groaned.

Josie snatched the piece of cheesecake out of his reach. “For that, you get less.”

“That’s fine. I’ll just share with Laura.”

“No you won’t.” Laura grabbed hers.

Mike looked around with a
what about me
expression on his face. “What happened to sharing?”

Josie shoveled a piece of mouth-watering goodness into her mouth and answered, “
You
guys might be into sharing but
I’m
not.”

“You’ve raised an incompetent asshole with a God complex. Aren’t you proud?” Alex declared. Sipping jasmine tea, his stomach felt sour. The last time he’d eaten Thai food hadn’t gone well.

Not well at all.

Sitting with his mother in a different restaurant across town didn’t help dull the pain of the memory of his last moment with Josie in his apartment.

“I’ve done no such thing, Alex. I’ve raised a human being.”

“All too human.”

“Then I’ve done well.” She smiled,, the kind of grin that made her dimples appear. His mother’s face was unreadable, kind brown eyes so much like his trying to read him. This was the look she gave him when she was humoring him. He deserved it.

“I just…how could I have screwed everything up like this?” He’d been a complete ass. In retrospect, he could see it clearly. Affected by stress at work, he’d let it spill over into his love life, biting Josie’s head off when all she’d tried to do was to help his family. To be fair, she had made it sound like she might be skirting ethical lines—no one in a double-blind study should know who was in the control group and who wasn’t. Alex wouldn’t know any more details, though, because he hadn’t even tried to reach out. No calls. No texts. Other than going for an occasional run around the park across the street from her apartment, he hadn’t gone near her.

“Alex, this isn’t you. You don’t have these sorts of neurotic insecurities. Where is this coming from?”

Josie
, he thought.

“Hell if I know,” he shrugged. “Between the tough case at work and screwing everything up with Josie, I feel like the person I’ve been all these years just got a personality transplant. I don’t like questioning myself. It feels uncertain and chaotic.”

“That’s called growth.”

“Then growing sucks.”

Meribeth pulled back, brow creased with worry. “This is about Josie, isn’t it?”

“And work. And Grandpa.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “Everyone has missteps at work.”

“But I—”

“Alex!” A harsh tone came through in his hissed name. “You’re doing the grown-up equivalent of pouting when things don’t go your way. It’s really unappealing, especially on a twenty-eight-year-old professional.”

Ouch.

Right or wrong, the comment hurt. Mostly because she was right.

“A baby landed in the NICU and my professional judgment was called into question, Mom. It’s not like I’m moping because Josie wouldn’t go to the homecoming dance with me.”

“Separate the two. Which one hurts more?”

Zing!

“I don’t know.”

She reached across the table and felt his forehead. “Are you ill? Because my Alex doesn’t say ‘I don’t know’ when the answer is in front of his face. Heck, the answer could be doing a lap dance for as obvious as it is.”

“Mom!”

“You’re in love with Josie and you made a mistake.” She took a long sip of tea.

“I’m not—”

“Oh, look at the pasties!”

“The metaphor is overdone. Point taken,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I am going to guess you didn’t share what’s going on at work with her.”

He set his tea cup down with a resigned sigh. “You know, in the 1500s that ability of yours led to dunkings. Who is my real dad? A warlock?”

Meribeth howled with laughter, turning heads. “That’s the old Alex.” His comment about his “real dad” shook her, though—her certainty in dealing with him as if he were a petulant schoolboy had drained out of her. Good.

“Josie grew up without a dad, too. At least, from the age of eleven on.”

Meribeth frowned. “He took off?”

“Died. Car accident.”

“Oh, how awful.” In her trademark gesture, his mother put her splayed palm over her heart. “And her mother?”

He shook his head, picking up the tepid tea absentmindedly, forcing himself to drink it. “She didn’t talk much about her. I get the impression it’s not a good relationship.”

“Two fatherless adults trying to navigate your first real relationship.”

“Great, Mom. How high concept of you. You should pitch screenplays to Hollywood.”

She laughed, putting her hands up like a director setting a scene. “Hot ambitious doctor meets fatherless, ambitious nurse—”

“Hot, Mom?” He cocked an eyebrow and tried to suppress an embarrassed grimace.

“Where did you meet again?” Meribeth asked.

“At her friend’s birth.”

“As her friend crosses over into motherhood.” Meribeth scowled. “At her
birth
? Why didn’t I know this?”

“You never asked.”

“You picked someone up at a
birth
?”

“I’m not proud of it.”

“Her best friend’s birth?”

“Yes.”

“Your timing is…interesting. Most women would be in the room, supporting their friend.”

“The dads were there to handle that.”

“Did you just say ‘dads’? As in plural?”

“Yes.”
Oh, shit
. This was headed into territory he didn’t want to have to explain. Then again, it took the heat off him, so maybe he should go with it. Too bad the restaurant didn’t have a liquor license. He could use a beer or ten right now.

“Her best friend slept with two different men and they don’t know who the biological father is?”

“It’s…complicated, Mom.”

“Sounds intriguing.” She leaned forward and propped her chin in her hand. “And Josie’s friends with this woman and the dads?”

“Yes.”

“Anyone that open-minded is someone I should meet.”

“It’s a little late for that,” he said, blowing a puff of air out, trying to relax his granite shoulders. “She’s done with me. I made a horrible comment and questioned her professional ethics when she told me Grandpa needed a second opinion.”

“She was right.”

“I know.” His aunt had received a call this week—the trial was broken due to overwhelming evidence in favor of the drug. Josie had been right.

“We took Dad back in, but Josie’s gone,” Meribeth said.

“Gone?”

“They said she’s no longer employed there.”

Ice water ran through his body. Did that mean she quit? Was she fired? Had she crossed some ethical or legal lines?

“That’s all they said?”

“Yes.” Her turn to start with the one-word answers.

Rubbing his chin, he felt two days of stubble scratch against his palm. “And the new medication?”

“Dad will go on it soon. We just don’t know.” She shrugged.

“So Josie was right and I fucked everything up.”

“Everything we do can be undone.”

“Not this, Mom.”

“
Everything
. If you want it bad enough.” The look on her face was a blend of compassion and amusement, as if the eighteen years between them conferred some deep wisdom on her that he couldn’t access. He wanted to believe it was true, but in recent years he’d come to see that she was just as human as he was, and that it was her compassion and deep devotion to him that mattered more than any perceived wisdom. Right now he just needed someone to listen. And he knew he could always turn to her because she was, after all,
Mom
.

When would he let another woman in like that?

“I do.”

“That’s what you say at a wedding.”

He groaned.

“You left yourself wide open.” She chuckled.

No. I didn’t. And that’s the problem.

Darla’s number appeared on her phone as it rang. “Hello?”

“Hey there, gettin’ ready to move.”

Darla’s voice never failed to amuse Josie. After years of living in Boston, she was accused of having a Boston accent whenever she went home. Once in a while she would slip and call “Ant” Cathy “Ont” Cathy, which led to a ripple of giggles and laughs among the family. God forbid she say “rahther” and not “rather.” A host of little things, including the word “wicked” being used as an adjective, had separated her from her beginnings. Good.

“So, I’m gettin’ ready to come,” Darla said, “and I have a few questions.”

“What’s that?” Josie said.

“How big is the bedroom that I’m gonna have?”

“I don’t know…about ten by ten?” Josie was terrible with space and guesstimates.

“Wow, that’s downright luxurious,” Darla cracked.

“It’s what you get in Cambridge, and it’s probably bigger than your room back home.”

“Fair enough. That’s another question—I keep saying I’m moving to Boston, but I’m not…”

“No, you’re moving to Cambridge.”

“So, Cambridge is where Harvard is?”

“Yes.”

“All the snotty people live there?” Darla asked.

“Not all of them, but plenty of them.”

“And what do I need to bring with me?”

“We can get you a bed when you move here, Darla,” Josie said. “I can buy it, it’s not a problem.”

“No, I’ve got some money saved up,” Darla replied.

“You
do
?” Darla was notorious for spending whatever was in her pocket about as fast as she made it.

“Yes, I do.”

The defensive tone set Josie’s stomach on edge. This was the last thing she needed on a day like this, and it made her need an outlet. Darla could be the unwitting target. Laura couldn’t anymore—she was off living house, not playing it, with Mike and Dylan and the baby.

“I got some money.”

“You didn’t do anything illegal…”

“I don’t do anything illegal, Josie, you know that.”

Josie thought for a moment. “It’s the two guys, isn’t it?”

Darla could never lie to her. Finally with a big sigh, she said, “Yeeeees.”

“They left you
money
?” Josie was a bit incredulous.

“It’s a long story.”

“You have a lot of long stories, Darla.”

“Well, you’re gonna get to hear ’em all now that I’ll be be your roommate.”

Josie laughed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m in a bad mood.”

“Why?”

“Oh…stuff.”

“Work stuff? Or dick stuff?”

“Dick stuff.”

“You have a new man?”

Have. Have?
Do I have a new man?
she wondered. She had. Why did verb tense suddenly mean so much? “I have been dating someone.”

“Is he a doctor?”

Not this again
, she thought. “Yes, he happens to be a doctor.”

“Same guy as before?”

“Yes.”

“Hot damn! It’s about time. You keep telling us that you’ll never date a doctor because they suck.”

“I’ve never said that doctors suck.”

“Yes you have,” Darla argued. “You’ve said it a million times—they all have God complexes, and they all have egos bigger than the state of Ohio. Josie, you’ve been saying that for years.”

Darla was right. She had been saying that for years and now she was caught in her own snare. “Yes, he’s a doctor. No, he’s not an ass. If anybody’s the ass, it’s me.”

“Why are you the ass, Josie?”

“Because I’m stupid.”

Darla laughed. “Anybody can be an ass when they’re stupid. The question is are you being stupid and turning somebody away you really like?”

Josie had to think about that for a few minutes; it filled her brain with too much chaos and she realized that she didn’t have to think about it, she could just defer and deflect. “Darla, I am not gonna talk about this right now,” she said with a weary sigh, “so let’s talk about you moving here. When are you coming?”

“Tomorrow.”

“
Tomorrow
!” Josie shouted. “
Tomorrow
?” She walked into the spare bedroom and looked around. All of her extra shit was crammed in there. About half the floor was covered with boxes and a stray guitar from years ago, and some UMass-logoed stadium blanket a guy she had dated a few times had left. “Tomorrow?”

“Well, it turns out Uncle Mike has a run and can get me as far as some city in Massachusetts called…Stur…bridge.”