Chapter Text
Connor prods the meat on his plate with his fork and sighs. Forty-five minutes have passed, and his mother shows no signs of slowing down.
“Connor, sweetie, your sister was engaged at your age.”
“That’s great her – really, but I’m not planning on getting married anytime soon.” He stabs down at a piece of broccoli and gives his mother a tense smile.
“Why not? If you want kids –”
“I’m twenty-two years old. I really have no desire to have kids right now. I haven’t even finished school.”
“That’s no way to talk to your mother,” his father chimes in. “And besides, you know your mother and I support you taking things slow, but we just think…” His father pauses and leans back in his chair, and Connor drops his fork.
“I really don’t think you get how supporting works.” He grabs his plate and moves toward the kitchen, grabbing some Tupperware in which to put his food.
“Connor, you can’t just leave while your mother and I are trying to have a conversation with you.”
“This is less of a conversation and more of you demanding I get married and have kids.”
“You haven’t brought a boyfriend home yet. Every time you come home, it’s ‘next time’ or ‘I’m just not settling down anytime soon’ or some other excuse.” His mother gets up and walks across the kitchen to him. She places a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be pushy.”
“Well, asking me for kids every time I come home doesn’t exactly make me want to come home. Besides, you can play with Jennifer’s kids.” When he sees his mother’s smile, Connor sighs. He’s been lucky. His parents could have written the handbook on how to be accepting and loving. Connor stops dealing with the food as he turns to face her. “I’m just not… ready to even think about that.”
“I just don’t want to be too old when you have them. I want to be able to run around with them and spoil them and do what a grandma should do. My joints won’t last forever. You know your father would love to take his grandson out to play catch.”
“Or granddaughter,” Connor reminds, and his mother smiles.
“Or granddaughter. You know we encouraged you to do whatever you wanted.” She pulls Connor in for a hug, and even though Connor wants to pull away, he doesn’t. He leans in and shakes his head.
“I love you, Mom. Really, I do. But I’m going to have kids whenever I’m ready.” He leaves it at that. It won’t help him if he tells his mother that he’s not even sure if he wants to have children. As much as he loves his sister’s kids, he isn’t sure if he wants that life. He likes having freedom to do what he want – hell who he wants. But he doesn’t say that. He knows that it will break her heart.
“Well, at least I hope you’ll settle down with some boy at some point. You’re twenty-two. Are you telling me there’s no one?” His mother bounces back as quickly as if their previous conversation never happened. Connor doesn’t know why he’s surprised. It is like this every time with them.
“Jesus – Mom, can we not do this?” He starts to leave, but his mother stops him.
“Connor, honey, can you at least sit and stay with us for a little longer before you disappear up to your room. You’re only here for a few days.” It reminds him why he doesn’t come home more often – besides the distance.
Connor turns to see his father sitting at the table and his mother giving him a pleading look. As much as he wants to run, he keeps from it and trudges back to the table. When he sits down, his mother beams and joins them at the table again.
“Boyfriends.”
“If I stay down here, can we at least talk about something else?” He is sure his mother knew what was going on when he’d come home from boarding school – the hickeys on his neck and the way he’d text under the table. There was the time she found the condom wrappers in his trash over winter break during his junior year. She isn’t clueless, and he can hear the plea behind her words when she speaks again.
“You just deserve a man who will help take care of you, who you love, and –”
“I have a boyfriend.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and he bites his cheek. “I have… a boyfriend,” he repeats again.
It is not true. He is seeing two different guys the week he gets back and another the week after that. His Tinder is filled with dozens of messages.
“Oh, Connor!” As soon as the shock slides off his mother’s face, she beams at him. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“We just wanted to keep it private for a while.” The lies are piling up as he tries to come up with a story. They met at law school? That seems too easy. He met him online? His mother wouldn’t approve of that at all. If he says they met at a bar, then she’ll believe him, but she’ll immediately associate it with a hook-up.
“How did you two meet?” his father asks. He still seems to be surprised, but he smiles at Connor.
“Friend of a friend,” he says. “We got set up on a blind date.” The lies are getting worse, but he tries to keep his back straight and look as honest as possible.
“What’s his name?” his mother asks.
“Oliver Hampton.” It’s the first name that comes to mind – a boy he’s been hooking up with over the past few months. He hopes he doesn’t look surprised at his own answer. While he and Oliver get along, he’s never once thought of dating him, and it sounds so preposterous coming out of his mouth.
“Oh, I’m so happy. You’ll have to bring him over! What about Thanksgiving?”
“I’ll ask him. I’m sure he’s going to be busy with his parents,” Connor says. “Can I be excused? I told him I’d call him today.” His head spins as he gets up.
“I’m glad you told us, honey,” his mother says as he walks away. He manages to smile at her before making it up to his room.
When he falls back on his bed, laughter bubbles up in his throat. Oliver Hampton – it seems ridiculous. But there’s no taking it back now. The laughter fades to groans, and he puts his head in his pillow. He just has to take it one step at a time, and he knows it’ll be fine. Surely, he can tell his mother that he and Oliver broke up before Thanksgiving even rolls around.
His phone buzzes. Connor pulls it out of his pocket and sighs before looking at screen.
Oliver H (7:13 PM)
Your mother friend requested me on Facebook? Connor???
Connor buries his head in his pillow again. He’s definitely screwed.