Chapter 59

Fortunately, Jessica's mind was as troubled as mine, and she didn't try anything. That was probably for the best. The reality was that I most likely would have reacted wrongly, and that would have set us back a few notches as well.

I was deep in thought and wished my dad was around, or even Theresa, though not my mom; so I could say what I thought, and get their reaction.

Why was it that I, the 'kid, ' had to be sensitive, supportive, and know about the issues my parents were going though, while they didn't need to think about what they did to me, or how it felt? Isn't it, or shouldn't it be, a two way street? What is it that makes the parent right, no matter what?

My mom had no right to dump her problems on me and expect me to take it. If I had done the same to her, using jealousy as the reason for my behavior, wouldn't she have said something? What made it so that I, as the person supposedly learning a behavioristic model, was the one who needed to take this sort of crap?

Really! It was the same sort of thing Theresa was doing to Jessica.

That's when I let out a big sigh. Jessica looked over to me.

"It wasn't that I let my mom know she was being a pain in the ass."

"John," Jessica said disapprovingly.

"Well, she was. The problem was how I went about telling her. You were smarter than I was."

She looked at me quizzically.

"You didn't like what your mother was doing. You stopped the subject, got help, and let her know she was being unfair. I just let my mom have it. Want to know the worst of it?"

"What?"

"I'm probably going to be just as unfair to our kids."

She looked at me wide eyed.

"Our?"

I started to grin and then nodded. I also realized the towel wasn't going to do much to hide what was going on down there. Somehow, vocalizing that thought got my juices going.

"No, you're not." Jessica said.

'Did she see it start to twitch already?' was my first thought, quickly followed by, 'Does she think I meant now?'

After a pause, she went on, "I'm going to be telling you how you screw up. You're not doing that to our kids."

This time it was I staring wide-eyed at her. She started to grin and then to laugh.

That's when my parents walked in.

My mother looked at Jessica and asked, "Is your lunch ready?"

My father followed that up by looking at his watch and adding, "How long is your lunch?"

Jessica jumped up and said, "Not that long!" as she hurried into the kitchen.

"I'll help you," my father said as he followed.

That left me with my mother.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I shouldn't have said that."

"Even if you meant it," she said.

"Yep. Even if I had been thinking it, I should have found a better way to tell you."

I don't think that is what she expected to hear.

"Your father and I were talking. We think that maybe we've overstayed our welcome."

I sighed. I hated feeling guilty and this was a big dose. Fortunately, for me, I had just had an introspective moment. I could act, without reacting. So I didn't answer her right away. I could tell that bothered her. She wanted me to say something.

"I'm not sure I understand?" I said. "What part of 'overstaying' are you talking about? None of us had any choice when we were carted off. You just spent one night in a motel, after having a great meal last night. So tell me what you mean."

She was perturbed. I wasn't falling into the normal pattern. I wasn't making this easy on her.

"At any rate," I went on after a little pause, "you should be here when the person is picked to take care of me."

"Oh? Why would that make any difference?"

My mother was getting defensive. I hated it when she did that. I tried my best not to get sucked into that.

"Well, for one thing, they might want to know things that I have no idea about. Do you remember when I was at the hospital, and they asked me about allergies and if I'd had chicken pox? I had no idea."

That did bring a little smile on her face.

"You were just five. In kindergarten. The whole class got it, one right after the next. There was only one place that I couldn't get you to not scratch. You probably have a scar from it."

I looked down at myself. I couldn't remember seeing a scar. The thought of it being in some embarrassing place made me start to blush. My mother chuckled.

"It was on the top of your head. As long as you don't go bald, I doubt anyone will ever see it."

I immediately reached up to my scalp.

"Here's lunch," Jessica said.

She had two plates in her hand. I saw my father with two plates as well. He set them on the table, while she brought hers over to where I was sitting.

My mother looked at Jessica and the two plates.

"Ours are over here," my father said to my mother.

She looked between Jessica and I.

"He's only wearing a towel."

"And was when I went to look for you. Now come on. We're right here for God's sake."