Her

64

PHOENIX

Thursday. 9pm. My mother and I are leaving the movies, walking home.

"So," my mother says. "Did you like it?"

"I did," I say. "Did you like it?"

"I did."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. It had an... interesting plot."

The plot was basically two girls falling for each other. I look over to my mother, then at the ground, then put both my hands in my pockets.

"Don't you think so?"

"Oh," I say. "I do. It was..." I cough. "Relatable," I murmur. And then quickly add, "And the actors were really good, brilliant actually. You believed them, felt for them."

We walk in silence for a moment. Then my mother says, "One day, that will be you. People will go to the movies to see you."

"Well," I say, "I don't think they will go to see me. They will go to see the movie, I guess."

"Some people, yes. But some people will want to see you, like... like me. Or..." She pauses. "Or your girlfriend."

I don't know what to say. Then I say, "I still can't really believe it." I realise my words could mean different things: am I talking about the movie or am I talking about Aza?

"I can," she says.

And even though it's just two words, two quietly but clearly spoken words, these two words mean a lot to me. They mean my mother believes in me. And they mean she accepts me. I smile, rather at the ground than at the person walking next to me.

"So," she says, "you finally signed the contact."

"I did, yes."

"So you talked? You and... Aza?"

"We did, yes." I hesitate. Then I say, "We had a bit of a disagreement, I suppose. But I guess we worked it out. We..." I hesitate again. "We said we'd visit, and call, and everything," I say, because using the term 'long distance relationship' freaks me out a little, and I think it might freak my mother out a little too.

She nods. Then she says, "I thought we could have dinner this weekend."

"Sure," I say. "Maise really likes the restaurants here. She says English food tastes much better than American one."

"Actually, I thought..." She hesitates. "We could have dinner at home."

"At home? Sure," I say, slightly confused. "We pretty much always have dinner at home, but sure."

"Yes, we do pretty much always have dinner at home, but..." She clears her throat. "We don't always have guests."

"Guests? You mean Maisie and -" And then it finally hits me. "Oh," I say. "You want... Oh." I stop, too surprised, almost shocked, to walk.

"Only if you want to. And if she wants to, of course."

I look at my mother. I wait for her to tell me that she's joking, even though she pretty much never jokes. I wait, and I realise she seems to mean it.

"I think," I say, "Aza would like that. So would I."

"Good."

"But, well..."

"I'll talk to your father. Don't worry."

Part of me is confused, part of me is touched, and part of me is worried. I look at her, and finally I say, "You don't have to do this."