Tonight at dinner, my mom and dad are both quiet as they eat their dinner. I pick at my food as I observe them both. My mom isn't known as being a silent person.
She's loud, independent, and brutally honest. I remember the first dance I went to in middle school, she criticized my suit as 'very elementary school'. That night, I wore my first tuxedo. Apparently, she measured me while I was sleeping in order to get it professionally tailored beforehand.
After dad told me that I taught myself to sleep lightly.
"Ma, are you alright?"
"No Kitrick, I'm not." After she says that my dad looks at her from his seat at the head of the table, warily. "Would you like to tell him shoog, or should I?"
I look at mom's plate and notice there's no cup of wine next to it. She's sober.
Dad glances at me for a moment before he says, "There's nothing to tell Kitrick, shoog. It's a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding!" yells my mom as she pounds her perfectly manicured fist on the dining table. I involuntarily jump at her sudden outburst. "A misunderstanding are small sums categorized under miscellaneous. However you Richard Adair have an offshore account worth thousands of dollars!"
"It's not what you think, shoog," says dad soothingly.
"You have no IDEA what I'm thinking, Richard!" I never saw my dad look so uncomfortable.
"Dad, is it true?" I ask him.
"Yes Kitrick, it is," says dad. He looks at my mom with concern. "However, I'd love to hear what ideas you have, shoog."
Mom stands up as she uses the back of her dining chair for support. "Well, I can't help but think about first of all, our vows! How we promised we would make financial decisions together." Dad's face pales slightly after she says that. "Or, why you have thousands of dollars hidden away. Have you embezzled or do you have a secret family I don't know about?"
"Neither of those options, shoog. You're my one and only." Dad sets down his eating utensils and put his cloth napkin on the dining table. "However, I also vowed I would take care of any future children we would have."
I stand up from my seat. "Maybe I should just come back and eat later..."
"Kitrick Ian Adair," says dad with his sternest voice. "Sit down, son. I want you to hear this."
I sink back down in my seat.
After I sit back down, dad looks at mom again. "Dot, I cannot stand idly by while you spend my money as if it's a never-ending faucet. I draw the line when you spend my money on your addiction. For the past two years, you've spent more money on booze than on clothes or charity causes." My dad has a pained look on his face as he whispers loud enough for both of us to hear. "Is being married to me so awful that you need alcohol to--to take the edge off?"
Mom's mouth drops open in shock. "Richard, it's not that. I--I needed to take the edge off but never from you!"
"Really? The drinking has nothing to do with us?"
"It's not just our little problems, shoog. It's all encompassing!" My mom runs her hands through her bright red hair. When she looks at me, her eyes water slightly before she clears her throat from emotion. "Maybe...Rick?"
Dad gets up from his seat as he walks slowly towards her. "Yes Dot?"
"Mmm-mmmaybe I do have a problem."
Dad walks up to hug her. The moment his arms wrap around hers, my mom starts sobbing. I get up too and hug both my Mom and dad as some silent tears escapes me too.
When we break from the hug, dad smiles at mom and me. "I think going to an Al-Anon meeting as a family is in order."
"Sure," I mumble. Mom smoothes my forehead, a move she hasn't done since fourth grade.
"What is wrong, Kitrick?"
"Well, because you're sober right now, ma...I need your help. You see, I have a date with somebody but--"
Mom smiles at dad as she says, "Kitrick and I must discuss this!"
"Go ahead, shoog. I'll be doing some cleaning." I turn to look at dad as mom is pulling me away. Dad mouths 'go on' and flicks his wrists at me before heading to the kitchen.
I wanted to finish eating my dinner since the tension is now gone.
Mom brings me to the living room and points at the couch for me to sit. "I do have a question before we get down to business about the date you had in mind..."
"Shoot, ma."
"It's not your sweet Hispanic friend is it?" she asks innocently enough. I didn't like how my mom just said the question.
Like, she was hoping it wasn't so. "It's not. Kat is just my best friend. This girl I want to go out with is..."
"Caucasian?"
"Does it matter, ma?" Mom smooths out her pencil skirt and picks off imaginary lint.
"Of course not, Kitrick. However, if you're picking the place where the date will be you would want to pick somewhere where your date doesn't feel out of place. First dates are exciting but the atmosphere should feel natural to the girl as well. So, she won't feel uncomfortable."
"My date is with Rona Holmgren."
Mom's eyes light up as she asks, "As in, the new family in our neighborhood?!"
"Now that you mention it, yeah." I forgot Rona lives in my neighborhood. Only because she never takes the school bus back home like I do. She always gets picked up by somebody but I never have a clear enough view of who.
"Then I can think of no place better than Le Paradis. They have great reviews and a wonderful appetizer menu to start and..." I zone out as my mom takes the reins for date ideas. Tonight has been an interesting one and I'm just trying to keep up.