School was weird today. For some reason, people kept fixating on what I did over the trip. Like it was any of their business.

I think I surprised them; most people never really saw me as anything but one of those law-abiding types. In that case, good. I don’t want to be so predictable, anyway.

The worst part was Luis. I had lunch with him, and he was all over me, like, why didn’t I ask him to come over during the weekend. What part of restriction didn’t he understand?

Sometimes I think maybe I’m too hard on him. But other times, I wish he’d just give me some space. There’s a lot going on right now, outside of me and him. Despite the fact that I wish I could change that, I clearly can’t. No way. Mom’s got a mind of her own.

So. Mom.

By now I’m sure Aunt Shane talked to her.

I kind of want mom to know how I feel. But I don’t feel like I can say anything bad to her right now about Bette Porter.

She’s starting to date this woman. She clearly likes her a lot.

Would she understand how I feel?

I’ve seen mom in a lot of different moods, but this one is way different from all of them, even. She’s kind of like my friend Jeri after she got invited to the prom by one of the seniors that lives near her.

So I guess I chickened out, and let Aunt Shane do the work for me. But I kind of had to.

Plus it’s just easier talking to Aunt Shane. I know she’s not dating Bette Porter, so it’s like she doesn’t have the direct connection that mom does.

She likes Porter, though. I guess that goes for something. Generally when Aunt Shane’s friends with someone, it’s for a good reason.

One time, I asked her why she didn’t have a lot of friends. She said that she expects people to disappoint her, and she sticks with the ones that don’t.

I hope I never disappoint her.

When I was a kid, she used to babysit me. We’d go to the arcade or the beach. And it was fun in a way that hanging out with mom could never. Not that I don’t have fun with mom, but there’s always a certain level of mom there, regardless. With Aunt Shane, she’s never a mom, and I mean that in the best of ways.

Bette Porter kind of feels like a mom.

Initially, she was cool, all art and stuff. But then she started coming down on me with rules and that. Not that Aunt Shane doesn’t lay down the law; she’s like the last person I’d ever consider crossing.

But she does it in her own way. Porter is kind of more like mom in the rules sense. But she’s not mom. I don’t know what I’m supposed to think of her.

Which is where it all gets kind of really weird, since she was supposed to be mom and stuff.

And it’s not like I need a new mom. I’ve got one, and I love her. And she’s got me.

We’ve been a family for a long time. Why should that change? Isn’t the saying if it’s not broke, don’t fix it? What about us is broke? Nothing.

At this point Luis keeps trying to talk to me about something stupid. “I’m going to the library,” I tell him. There’s no talking in the library.

I’ve got some more thinking to do.

So, that’s kind of how school went. A lot of thinking. A lot of not answering questions. Fortunately most of the teachers weren’t too repetitive today, so there was stuff to do.

When I got home, I was plenty buried in homework until it was time to start dinner.

Mom’s often home late in the afternoon, since she doesn’t work full time. But sometimes she works late, or sometimes she does Center stuff after her real job. I’ve been trying to do more cooking when she’s not around.

I kind of like it. Plus, I get to make a mess and she can’t really say too much about that since I’m helping and stuff.

Tonight’s pretty easy. She put some chicken in the fridge, so I’ll cook that and then make some macaroni and cheese to go with it.

Macaroni and cheese goes with about everything. Mom disagrees with me about this. I think there’s something about being an adult that makes you lose your taste buds or something.

Oh, that’s another good part about when I cook. We’re less likely to have vegetables for some reason. I mean, they’re around here, somewhere, but what can I say, I forget.

Besides, if we’re meant to eat vegetables, why was mac and cheese invented? Seems like it’s an either/or discussion, and I know what side of it all that I fall on.

When mom came home, I knew something was up because there was no vegetable delay before dinner. We just scooped up everything and ate.

She started to eat, anyway. Instead, she was just pushing stuff around on the plate.

C’mon mom. This talk’s going to happen. We both know it. The sooner you start, the better you’ll feel. “Jess?”

“Yeah?”

“I know right now things might be a little confusing for you.”

I’m not confused, mom. You’re going out with a woman who went to the other side of the country rather than live with me. “Uh, I guess.”

“But you know I love you, right?”

I shook my head. I mean, she’s always going to get me with that one.

“And you know that any choices that I make always take you into account.”

I might disagree with this based on the latest car. I specifically said I wanted her to get a red one, so that when I start driving, I’d have something that didn’t look like what she got, the green mom-mobile. “I guess.” I’m sure if I thought about it more, I could come up with more examples.

“Please understand that my choice to see Bette, it’s because I think it’s a good thing for both of us, not just for me.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t going to be the one dating her, after all.

“Jess?”

What do you want from me, mom? “Yeah?”

“Please, promise. You’ll give her a fair chance.”

Will she do the same? “I guess.” That’s not really a promise now, is it?

“You know you can talk to me about this, right?”

No, mom, I don’t know that. You and the Porter woman seem to be all into each other. Two’s company, three is Jess.

I guess maybe I should have made eye contact after that one.

“Jess?”

“What?”

“What are you thinking?” I’m thinking that I hate that question, mom, since I’m not good at lying on the spot, so I need to find something near the truth.

“Um, I don’t know.” Which is kind of true.

“You don’t know about Bette? Or about you?”

Great. I’ve fallen into twenty questions. How am I ever going to escape this dinner? I should have known that the lack of vegetables was a trap. “It’s different for me, I guess.”

“Will you tell me if I do something or say something that you feel leaves you out?”

Besides the bit about you dating Bette Porter, which kind of leaves me out by default? “I guess.”

“Jess, this is a chance to have your whole family.”

At this point, I’m tired of everyone singing the praises of Bette Porter. I mean, if the woman’s so great, how come she’s not my mom now? “But there’s no guarantee, right?”

Why do I say these things? Mom was on the verge of crying.

“There’s never a guarantee, Jess. But do you trust me?”

Of course, mom. You’re the one that stayed. “Yeah.”

“Then please trust me on this.”

“I suppose.”

Mom gave a little smile, although she still looked like she was on the verge of tears and stuff. “Bette will be back in town this weekend. We’ll all be able to spend some time together.”

Forced family fun? No thanks. I think I’m off restriction this weekend.

If mom noticed that I didn’t say anything, she didn’t say anything.

At least this gives me something to do tonight. Time to make some weekend plans.

(tbc)