For Everything a Reason...

“Why do you still wear that thing?”

I blinked. Looked down at my hand, at the finger between my middle and my pinky; examined the 'thing' to which my mother was referring to.

It was made of stainless steel and was inset with a small stone. The stone was fake of course but somehow it still managed to add something...extra to it.

'It', as you may have guessed by now was a ring, and I wore it on my right hand.

Looking up from the ring I reached for my half empty bottle of Fanta orange and took a sip.

“I'm surprised it's taken you this long to ask.” I said after setting the bottle back down on the table. “You've been eyeing it ever since we walked in.”

My mother sat back in her chair. Pushed away her barely touched plate of avocado rice (she had wanted pilao but the restaurant didn't have any and so the avocado rice was the best that they could do) with the finger tips of one hand and reached for her bottle of water with the other.
She allowed herself a slight shrug.

“That doesn't really answer my question Ben.”

Unscrewing the top, she put the bottle up to her lips; took a long, deep swallow.

“What are you holding onto? You left her.”

Holding up my hand with the ring in question, I aimed for casual and tilted my head slightly to one side.

“It looks good doesn't it?”

Another sip of water.

“It looks expensive.” My mother answered noncommittally. “And how much did you pay for them anyway? For yours and for hers?”

I shrugged. Assumed a noncommittal tone of my own.

“Enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“Enough to make it feel real.”

Something about this must have amused her because just then my mother smiled. Even though the smile lasted no longer than a second or two. After that, her mouth set itself into something closer to disdain.

“It wasn't, you know. Real.”

I shook my head.

“You're wrong. You weren't there Mom...I loved her.”

Scoffing my mother picked up her fork and began scraping her plate, piling the rice on top of each other, forming a small mountain in the center of the plate.

“No, you didn't. You were lonely and she made you feel special. That's not love.”

She stopped. Pointed the four pronged plastic fork at me.

“You know what real love is...and you let it slip right through your fingers.”

I nodded my head. I suddenly got it. Or at the very least thought I had.

“So that is what all of this is about? I can't believe it. You still haven't forgiven me for messing things up with your picture perfect daughter-in-law, have you?”

My mother leaned forward in her chair.

“Don't use that tone with me Ben. This is about you not letting go and me trying to understand why.

She waved her hand in a slight flourish.

“Would you mind explaining it to me?”

I sighed. Looked down at my empty plate. Empty save for a few rogue strands of cabbage and a small pool of brownish soup. I had eaten chips and liver. A pretty safe bet in any fast food joint and had wolfed it down in what had seemed like two minutes flat.

“Well?”

I looked up from the plate, met my mother's gaze. It was not until much later that my mother told me that my expression had looked haunted. Like I had looked death square in the face. And in a way, I had.

“What Ben? What is it?”

I let out another sigh. Swallowed, cleared my throat and swallowed again. Averted my eyes.
“There was a baby.”

My mother leaned further forward.

“What?”

I cleared my throat again, this time speaking up.

“There was a baby Mom. Sharon was pregnant. And she had decided...we had decided to keep it. You were going to be a grand mother.”

My mother took a moment to process this.

“You said 'going to be'. What...what happened?”

I ventured a look at my Mom. I was surprised to find that she looked as shell shocked as I felt. How I had been feeling for the past few months. I think she was finally starting to get it.

“The doctor said it was the stress. She was having a hard time dealing with the break up. She wasn't eating, was constantly in tears...there was just so much going on...the baby couldn't take it.”

“You broke up with her when she was pregnant!?” My Mom was incredulous. She was also pissed.

“No, no, no.” I said quickly. “she didn't find out she was pregnant until after we broke up. When I broke it off I had no idea.”

This seemed to pacify her a bit. I could tell she had been about to go ape shit over the fact that her only son who she had raised single handedly had dumped his fiancé when he knew she was pregnant, possibly even because she was pregnant. She had been ready to tear me a new one.

“Tell me what happened.” She demanded, if a bit plaintively. “I want to know everything.”

I nodded.

“Ok...I guess it's time you knew the whole story anyway.”

I reached for my bottle of Fanta. Upended what was left of it and setting the empty bottle back down on the table I cleared my throat and began.