That Spark

HERE

"I'm fine, Martha. Thank you."

He replies without looking behind. I can hear the amusement in those five words.

"Jill, why don't you go help your husband make breakfast?"

"Me help him?"

Excuse me?

Cooking is the one thing I adore! The one thing I get to do in this house! The only thing Dean appreciates about me!

"You mean, 'I help him'." She corrects and I can say no more. She is my mother, after all.

"Yeah. Will you hold Hayden, please?"

I drop Buttons off into her arms before she can protest and walk over to Dean, and try to take control of breakfast.

"I've never heard that one before. You think hubby number four took lit in college?"

"It's not funny, Dean. . ."

I mumble, though I want to smile. But I guess I'm already down from last night and my mother is shooting insults through the chinks in my armour.

"Hey, come on. You can't seriously let that get to you."

"Easy for you to say. You're the perfect son-in-law."

"What are you mad at me for?"

"I'm not mad at you, Dean--"

His pager beeps, and I know this conversation is over and done with.

"I have to go." He mutters, tapping away at his pager and sipping the last of his coffee.

Sure you do.

"I'll try to make it for dinner, okay?"

Sure you will.

Okay, maybe I am mad at him. But I don't know why. Maybe because I had meant what I had said.

"Come here."

The shock takes my voice away as Dean takes me into his arms and parts my lips with his. My eyes are still wide open, but I manage to kiss him back. I really can't remember the last time we did this!

When he finally pulls away, he waits until I can catch my breath, looking sideways.

"Your mother saw that. Good." He smiles and the understandment comes crashing through the momentary sunshine and rainbows and falls flat onto the ground.

He just kissed me so my mother wouldn't have a chance to talk about us having problems. Why did I not see this coming?

I keep watching with a frown as Dean walks over to them and kisses Hayden goodbye. Is that the only reason he kissed me? Are we in reality that far apart? We were doing just fine five minutes ago.

"You have a good day, son!" Mother calls out to him, and he simply waves, grabbing his coat off the hanger.

I turn the stove off and take my face into my hands to support my heavy head. Retrospection would just be a push for me to break now. And if all this isn't enough, my mother comes clonking across in her stilettos.

"Oh, dear, Jill. Are you alright?"

Keep it in, I tell myself. The last thing I need is my mother knowing about this.

"Yeah, mom. Would you like some breakfast?"

I gesture to the scrambled eggs in the skillet with the plastic smile, but she holds my eyes.

"Honey, sometimes in marriage, us women, we're forced to face difficult times."

"I'm fine." I smile again, trying to throw her off the scent that she's just sniffed out. But I need words right now. No matter what the source.

"You're not that close anymore?"

We were never close.

"No." I whisper to her, staring at the ground. I don't know why I'm doing this. I do not owe her any answers. But I want to hear hers, I suppose.

"You know, I've found that sometimes, a little touch up helps."

Huh?

"What are you talking about?" I face her with a creased forehead, and she's still maintaining a zen like calm. This cannot be good. That look always preceded a demeaning lecture.

"When was the last time you took care of yourself? And I mean really took care of yourself?"

"What? Mother, you're not making any sense."

I watch as she lets out a deep breath and then speaks.

"You claim you're doing 'fine' with Dean, then why the distance between you?"

"I . . . I don't know." I shrug, blinking in the tears.

"I think you do, honey. See, as your mother, I will always love you. I'm obligated to--"

"Where are you going with this, mother?" I ask frustratedly, clutching my forehead, knowing full well that she had learnt this trick of not getting to the point from #4. And I also know that we're miles away from the bottom line. I need to put an end to this. I don't need to hear this any more. I know she's going to insult me ultimately.

"I'm telling you I'll love you no matter what you look like."

"Thanks, mother. But I think Dean and I can . . .What did you just say?"

She picks now of all times to look away and drink water. I yank her shoulder and force her to face me.

"Jill!" She scowls.

"What do I look like?"

"I can give you many answers to that question, dear." She simpers and I pin her shoulders down.

"Quit stalling, mother. Just tell me!"

"I just wanted to say that we can't look young and beautiful forever."

And I feel my heart sink, like a missile had just been dropped into warm water. I cannot feel my arms anymore, but I can sense myself moving back. This was a first for me; the devastating effects of realization.

That's it.

"But don't lose hope. Just throw on some make up and they'll always appreciate you."

Her words echo in my head like dead weights, and I can't take it anymore.

I grab the edges of the island counter, as my brain throbs behind my eyes. I ignore the calls of my mother and Hayden completely, and make it to the bathroom upstairs.

Then I stare into what feels like an endless abyss into which I'm falling, but I can't hold on. This was by far the most blunt blow from my mother, but it stings like never before. She had made me realize it. There was no denying that. It amazes me; how fast it had come. But what I fail to see is the answer to my realization; while she matches my every gaze.