I was about to question Martin further about the tacos when I heard the distinct sound of another vroooom.
“You’re using your hands free, right?”
“Yes. I’m using the car’s Bluetooth.”
“Okay…just…just be careful.” I worried. I didn’t want him rushing through traffic and killing himself.
“I’ll be careful. I love you, Kaitlyn.”
“I love you, Martin. Bye.”
“See you soon,” he said instead of goodbye, and then he clicked off.
As I hung up my phone, still in a cotton candy haze of happiness, I realized that Martin never said goodbye. The entire time I’d known him, he’d never said the words to me.
Huh…
Aaaand I was smiling again.
I was still smiling when I opened my laptop and signed into Skype for the weekly call with my parents. I hadn’t yet told them about Martin and me, but I did ask George to add an item to the agenda this week entitled, Kaitlyn’s new address. I figured I’d give them the heads-up once we came to the topic. They would make note of it. We would move on.
That is not what happened.
As soon as the video image of my parents came up on my screen I could see that my mother wasn’t smiling. This was atypical now that we did our calls via Skype. Usually she was happy to see me. Today she looked concerned and preoccupied.
Furthermore, she started speaking immediately. I didn’t even get a chance to greet my father and George.
“Kaitlyn, some pictures were sent to me today from an associated press photographer of you and Martin Sandeke. And my office received calls from several newspapers asking about the status of your relationship.”
My attention drifted to my dad. He looked grim, like he’d just recently argued with my mother. They didn’t argue often, so I could tell when they did because he always looked grim afterward.
“Uhhh…” I gathered a steadying breath and said the first thing that came into my head. “Do you want to skip forward on the agenda?”
“The agenda?”
“Item number seven, my new address.”
My father’s eyes lifted, he was now looking at my image on the computer screen with curiosity. George was taking notes, appearing neutral as usual. My mother was obviously confused and a little stunned.
“What does your new address have to do with…?” I could see she’d answered her own question before she’d finished asking it.
I gave her a moment to absorb reality, my eyes flickering again to my dad. He was giving me a small smile.
“Oh, Kaitlyn.” My mother shook her head, bringing my attention back to her. She looked concerned. “You didn’t even consult with us about this.”
I stared at her for a long moment, unsure how to respond, especially since old Kaitlyn and new Kaitlyn had two completely different instinctual reactions to her statement.
Old Kaitlyn was mortified I’d disappointed my mother.
New Kaitlyn was pissed.
New Kaitlyn won, though, and I felt myself flush with mortification and discomfort. “Mom, why would I consult with you on where I live?”
“Not where you live, it’s with whom you live. Your decisions affect more than just yourself.”
“That’s right. They affect Martin and me.” I started to sweat.
“Yes. They do affect you. Martin’s father isn’t likely to let the fact that his son absconded with one hundred twenty million dollars go. Eventually he’s going to try to make Martin’s life very difficult and you will be caught in the middle.”
“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I have complete faith in Martin that he’ll be able to deal with his father.”
“But that’s not the only factor. Kaitlyn, you must see,” she leaned forward in her chair, her voice held a note of pleading, “my opponents will insinuate that you and Martin have been together this whole time. All the denials I made back in the spring will ring false.”
“And I’m sure you have a staff that can help you handle these kinds of issues.”
My mother sighed. It was not a pleased sigh. “Are you being purposefully obtuse?”
“No. Are you?” I said through clenched teeth.
She stared at me. Or rather, her face on the screen stared at me, and I couldn’t tell if she actually saw me or saw a problem to be solved.
After staring for a good while, during which I refused to look away, she shifted in her seat, her eyes narrowing just slightly. “I am curious, how is it that—”
“Nope.” I cut her off, feeling a spike of bravery paired with my spike of irritation. “No. You can be curious, but I’m not answering any of your questions. This is not a senate committee meeting and I am not under oath. I am an adult, as you like to remind me, capable of making my own decisions. As such, the identity of my boyfriend is my prerogative, who I live with and who I decide to love is my choice. I love Martin. What you do for a living is your prerogative. If your job has a problem with who I love, then maybe you should stand up and tell your job to mind its own business.”
I could see my dad off to the left. He smirked then tried to cover it by rolling his lips between his teeth. When that was ineffective he hid his smile behind his hand.
George, as always, looked bored while taking notes. I could just imagine reading the meeting minutes later…
My mother’s calm exterior fractured a little. She appeared to be frustrated, she also appeared to be reluctantly proud. Even so, she surprised the hiccup out of me when she finally said with another sigh. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Clarify what you mean by okay.”
“Okay, your points are valid ones. I cede that you are an adult and your decisions are your own. I apologize. I will issue a press release that who my adult daughter dates is no one’s business but hers and has no bearing on my career.”
“So, you’re going to point out the obvious.”
My dad chuckled like he couldn’t help himself and shook his head.
To my mother’s credit, she cracked a smile. “Yes. I’m going to point out the obvious. And I’m also going to redouble my efforts to respect your boundaries. But if Denver Sandeke ever…I mean…I hope you know that I…that—”
I took pity on her. “Mom, it’s okay. I promise I’m not going to do anything— on purpose at least—that might cloud or take away from the work you’re trying to do. You do good work.”
“But again, Kaitlyn, Denver Sandeke is not to be underestimated.”
“Yes. I agree. I promise I will let you know if Denver Sandeke ever shows his chinless face. But I have a life to live.”
“And I want you to live it.” Her eyes were full of uncharacteristic emotion and she appeared to be truly repentant. “We’ve made progress, you and I. And I don’t want anything to jeopardize that progress.”
“Me either.” I nodded, giving her a warm smile, impressed with myself that I managed to keep my outward cool. I exhaled my relief, feeling like I’d just run a mile.
“Good.”
“Good.”
And it was. It was good. We were figuring this out, every call and interaction forging a new path, and I was immeasurably thankful she was just as invested as I was in making this work.
George eventually cleared his throat and said in a very George-esque way, “So, back to the agenda.”
I was granted a reprieve to calm down. We restarted at the top of the agenda and covered various and sundry topics like where they were vacationing for summer recess, whether I would be home for spring break, and thank-you cards I needed to write to family members for Christmas gifts. My aunt Donna on my dad’s side always became a bit twitchy if I didn’t write a thank-you note.
Then we arrived at agenda topic number four. I tried not to grimace.
“Have you made a decision about performing in May? At the fundraiser and the benefit concert?” George prompted, rubbing the bridge of his nose where his glasses typically rested.
“No.” I shook my head. “How soon do you need to know?”
I hadn’t decided. On one hand I was warming to the idea of pushing myself out of my comfort zone. The benefit for Children’s Charities in particular sounded like it would be awesome. I liked that there would be kids there and I could compose something specifically for them.
On the other hand…
My mother leaned forward again, her tone was infinitely patient. “I wish you would do it. I think you’d really enjoy yourself.”
I glanced at my dad and he spoke up as well. “Katy, you’re amazing. It’s important to share your talents. I agree with your mom.”
“I still need some time.” I frowned at them both.
My mother sighed, again frustrated. “You know we just want what’s best for you. And I can’t believe that you’re happy serving coffee and playing weddings every weekend in that little band.”
I felt my defenses raise. “Believe it. I’m happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I don’t need to be important—”
“You are important—”
“You know what I mean. I don’t need to be notable. I love playing and composing music. And that’s enough for me.”