Social Experiment

31 | Dream Of Me

I had received the dreaded we need to talk text after my mom said she would help take care of Bennett for the next few days. I was acutely aware of what she wanted to talk about: Nathan. So I took the long way home after school and walked up the pathway to the front door one little shuffle at a time in order to stall as long as possible.

But eventually I twisted the knob on the front door and slid my backpack off of my shoulders and onto the ground as I called, "Mom, are you home?"

At the first moment of silence, I felt myself exhale in relief, but all temporary relief was squandered when she yelled back a muffled, "I'm in my office!"

With a heavy sigh, I begin climbing the stairs and start for her office. The door was ajar already and I pushed it all the way open slowly before stepping inside and immediately spotted her crouched over her laptop on her desk. She glanced up at me, her glasses sliding down her nose, but her fingers never stopped typing.

"Give me a minute honey," Her eyes dart back to the screen. "I'm on a roll."

Silently, I sit on the armchair in front of her desk coated in colorful fabric before looking around. The walls were covered in tapestries that she's gotten from different states, countries, and continents as a result of always traveling for book tours, signings, and interviews. She swears by the tapestries and says they're good inspiration or calm her down when she needs to write. 

There was a wall with three overflowing bookshelves with books of all shapes and sizes stuffed in every nook and cranny. The books ranged from the children's books that she read Luke and I when we were younger to her beloved Jane Austin, which she made me read when I was turning fifteen. Just like her tapestries, she takes great pride in her book collection. 

As I'm looking around her familiar office, the typing stops and my mother sighs contentedly, then shifts her gaze to me. "I wrote eight and a half pages in an hour."

Easily impressed, I raise my eyebrows and ask, "What gave you the inspiration?" 

She takes her glasses off and smiles mischievously to herself, as if she's the only one in on a secret, and answers as vaguely as possible. "Just some things that have been going on."

"Very informational," I tease her with a small smile. "Does this mean you're writing another book?"

And, just as rehearsed and vague as the last answer, she tells me, "I wasn't planning on it but I got inspired."

Even though my mom was giving me minimal information about her newest work, I could feel the excitement radiate off of her in waves. She closes her laptop and leans back in her chair as her secretive smile lessens while she examines me. The memory of her we need to talk text hits me full force as my smile fades as well and I sigh in anticipation.

"So, Lauren," My mother gives me a mock stern look. "When were you going to tell me that you and Thomas broke up?"

I look down at my hands sheepishly and mumble, "Eventually. We kind of ended on a bad note, so I don't exactly like talking about him."

"I can't say I'm disappointed," She offers me a warm yet wicked smile. "I never liked him."

"You and everyone else who knows him," I tell her as a small smile grows on my lips as well. 

"So, who's this Nathan fellow?" The smile wipes clean off my face as the interest piques in her voice. "He's very handsome and seems like a nice young man."

I bite my tongue from telling her that she's the only one who thinks he's nice and instead focus on getting rid of the blush that threatened to spill on my cheeks. "We're jut friends, mom."