The Greatest of These is Love Pt. 07

Susan sat on the edge of her bed, considering how she should proceed. Last night had been emotionally trying for everyone. The 'family forum', followed by the quietly intense discussions with Henry, had shaken her to her core. Even so, she just couldn't bring herself to wake John. She recalled how it was his habit to sleep in while he was home on his school breaks, except when he had to get up for work.

She did leave a note on the table for him. In it, she tried to apologize for how she had treated Dawn, actually using Dawn's name rather than 'your girlfriend'. Susan also requested time to speak with John before they had supper, implying her desire that he not leave home before then. Satisfied that she had done all that she dared to do for now, Susan headed off to work.

Hours later, John awoke to the sounds of Owen showering in their shared bathroom. He lay there on his bed, recalling his conversation with Dawn. Both she and Mamma T thought he needed time at home with his family. He was hoping to go to Phelps Bluff for Spring Break, and possibly working there all summer long. So, it was important that he spend the rest of his holiday break at home. But his mother needed to stop trying to run his life as well as changing her attitude towards Dawn. He was nearly 21 years old and having Dawn in his life was helping him to become a better person. He was doing very well in all his classes and had a good idea about his career path.

John heard Owen end his shower and eventually vacate their shared bathroom. Returning to his room after his shower, John pulled up a suitcase from its ready position near the door and got out some clothes for the day, returning the suitcase to its prior position. It never hurt to be ready.

John found his mother's note on the dining table on his way into the kitchen. Exhaling mightily, he made a cup of hot chocolate and toasted a bagel, then sat to eat and read his mother's missive.

"John, I am so very sorry for this situation involving Dawn that I've caused between us. In hindsight, you both seem to be very good for each other. And really, that's all a mother should want for her child.

"This whole situation has snowballed far beyond what anyone could have foreseen, and it's all due to 'failure to communicate'."

John snorted, mentally, as he recalled the line from the Paul Newman movie 'Cool Hand Luke': "What we've got here is ... failure to communicate." John wasn't surprised at his mother's reference. Paul Newman was one of her all‑time favorite actors, and she had probably seen the movie half a dozen times. He read on.

"We, you and I, need to sit down, away from your father and brother, and have an open and honest discussion. Hopefully your 'talking stick' won't be needed. Can we please sit and talk when I get home and before supper?

Mom."

John noted the lack of any 'love' at the end of her message. Despite her words of apology, she still was dictating or commanding. She only used 'please' one time, near the end. Sure, she seemed to own the responsibility for the current state of things, but it was a tiny thing.

John grimaced as he refolded the paper. He wanted to talk things over with Dawn because she was so much better at these people things. He returned to his room, closed the door, pulled out his phone, and called his girlfriend.

"What? You can't even go twelve hours without us talking?" she answered. He could hear her teasing grin and knew that she wasn't serious about her words.

"Mom went off to work and left a note, asking if the two of us, just she and I, could talk once she came home. I'm a little confused, though, and I need your interpretation and good sense, please. Do you think I should include my father in that discussion?"

"You know I was just teasing about your calling, right? Take a picture of the note and send it. I'll look at it and call you back soon, okay?"

"Yeah, I could tell that you weren't as serious as your words made out. I'll send you a picture. Call me back, ASAP, when you can help me, please. I'm not sure that hanging around here is the best choice."

Dawn sighed. He was digging his heels in and not being Mr. Compliant.

"I'll call back soon, my love. By the way, I think Gypsy misses you."

John snorted softly then disconnected. He unfolded the note on his bed and kept adjusting the picture on his phone before he finally got a good enough copy to send. Then he waited.

Dawn heard the 'ding' on her phone announcing the arrival of John's message, and quickly dried her hands. She had not expected him to respond so quickly, and there were still some breakfast things to be cleaned. She sat at the small table in the kitchen and zoomed in on the picture of the note he had sent. She, too, noted the 'Mom' only ending. Dawn read the message three times before she set her phone down and finished washing the breakfast things that couldn't go into the dishwasher. It was about ten minutes before she could talk with John in private. All the while, John stewed over how his mother had disparaged his girlfriend and how she continued to treat him like a child, rather than a couple of months short of full adulthood.

"Okay, John, the dishes are done and I'm down in my room; just me and Gypsy here."

"Hiya, Gypsy girl! Do you miss me?" John asked, teasingly.

"I don't have you on speaker, so she didn't hear you. Don't you go subverting my dog, buster!" she laughed. "About your mother's note, what's your issue with what she wrote?"

"It came across to me as commanding and a little condescending. She's assuming that I'll be here when she comes home simply because I don't have access to a car. I've got some news for her: Lyft and Uber are just a phone call away." John exhaled heavily, giving Dawn the break she needed.

"That's true, my love. It's also true that you cannot mend a family relationship if you're not physically present with them. Let's talk about what you want to happen."

"What do you mean, Dawn?"

"I mean, if you could construct a perfect version of your relationship with your mother, what would it look like?"

"To start, they'd have a car for Owen and me to share."

"So, your lack of transportation is becoming a stumbling block between you and your parents?"

"That's just one thing. Many things need to change around here, and I don't foresee a lot of them happening. The simplest solution is probably going to be my moving out, once I complete my degree."

What's the 'talking stick' she mentioned?" she asked.

"It was a craft project back from when I was 7 or 8, the one year they let me be in Cub Scouts. It originated with some Pacific Northwest Native American customs. In a group, whoever holds the stick gets to talk and the others must remain silent. I found it at the back of my closet. It worked to some degree, but I had to yell at Mom and threaten to walk out and never, ever return, just to get her to be quiet and listen. Not my finest moment, for sure."

"Ah. Okay. Here's my take on things. One, she admitted some responsibility for the breakdown in your relationship. Two, she actually used my name and not 'girlfriend' or 'Daisy Mae'. That's gotta be a step in the right direction. Three, it seems like she's tryin' to reach out so you two can talk, and you need to do that."

"Sort of a 'must be present to win' situation, huh?"

"Something like that. My advice is to go ahead and talk with her, but without the 'talking stick'. Here's an idea: sit next to her and hold her hands while you talk. Tell her what parts of her note bothered you. Just like she can't deny how you feel, you cannot deny how she feels either. Then call me again tonight."

"Oh, never fear about my not calling you every night. You're my one link to sanity."

"What's up with Owen? Isn't he there to share stuff with?" she asked.

"After last night, he's kinda caught up in his own miserable little world, I think. We hung out together on Monday until Mom came home and started asking about 'Daisy Mae', but we both slept in late and haven't talked much today."

"Well, he's your brother. You do what you think is best when it comes to him." Dawn giggled, then added, "I think I told you that Mamma's really fond of the actor Owen Wilson. I know she'd love to be able to say, 'I've hugged and kissed Owen Wilson.'"

John stifled a snort of amusement, adding, "I'll tell him about that."

"So, go ahead and have a talk with your mother, and be sure to call me tonight."

"I will, Dawn. I love you very much."

"And I love you, John Edward Wilson. We'll talk again later. Bye for now."

"Bye until later, my love."

Susan exited her car with some trepidation in her heart. She had sent John a text as she was leaving work an hour early, but he had not responded. She knew he was home because Owen had responded with that information, but nothing more. It seemed obvious to her that John was influencing his brother. At least he allowed Owen to tell her that he, John, was still around.

She entered through the garage, announcing that she was home, but the house was eerily quiet. Then Owen's tenor voice called out from upstairs, "Hi, Mom. We're up here, just chillin'."

"Okay. I'm going to change into something comfortable." Susan mounted the stairs and could hear them talking in John's room. She quickly ducked into her room to change out of her work clothes. She thought about raiding Henry's closet for his "My son and my money go to State" sweatshirt, then reconsidered. She did not want to antagonize John in any way. She chose some yoga pants and a fuzzy sweater instead.

Tapping on the doorframe to John's room to get his attention, she inquired, "John, can we sit down and talk now?" adding, "Please," as an afterthought. Her eyes darted down and to the left and she saw his suitcases standing ready by the door. Susan's eyes widened in dismay, but she said nothing.

"Sure, Mom. I'll be right down. I'll meet you in the living room in three minutes, okay?"

Susan disappeared from his doorway as John rose from his bed to visit the bathroom. 'Go before you go' had been his father's mantra for so many years.

When John arrived in the living room, Susan was seated on the sofa with her legs tucked under her. She appeared placid, but her hands were in her lap and fidgeting, betraying her inner turmoil. Contrary to Dawn's advice, he was going to sit in the recliner where his father usually sat, but Susan requested that he share the sofa with her so he took a seat at the other end of the sofa.

Neither of them knew where to begin, and there was an awkward silence that seemed to drag on for many minutes when, in fact, it was only a few seconds. Finally, John began.

"Mom, I'm still very upset with how you treated Dawn while she was visiting." Susan pressed her lips together tightly at John's words, noting his very calm tone. She nodded slightly, encouraging him to continue. "I also resent how you treat me. I'm not a young child anymore; I'll be 21 in about three months." She sucked her upper lip into her mouth at this additional statement. "You are the only person in this family who is unkind to Dawn. All of my grandparents think she's wonderful, as do my father and brother. So, I guess it all boils down to this: what's the matter? What's wrong?"

Tears began to well up in her eyes. The calmness he displayed unnerved her. She could envision his arising from the sofa, returning to his room only to descend the stairs with his suitcases in his hands, ready to walk out the door, possibly forever.

"Johnny, you're my baby; my firstborn," Susan said while wiping away the couple of tears that had overflowed her eyes. "I've probably been too protective of you," and at this John's eyebrows raised so high as to disappear behind his bangs. "Okay, no probably to it. You know how my brother Jimmy died, right?" John nodded. "Well, there's a lot more to the story than you probably realize. I don't want to get into it now, but the long and short of it is that I promised God and myself that I would never let that happen to my children."

"Okay, so there's a lot more behind how you're trying to protect me and Owen. But what about Dawn? She's been incredibly nice, kind, and considerate to everyone, even you."

Susan sighed, then admitted, "It's all part of protecting you, Johnny. Jimmy would not have even been at that party if it wasn't for his girlfriend. And if he wasn't at the party, he wouldn't have been drunk and crashed into that ancient tree on his way home. Don't you see, she was why he was out that night. It was all her fault." Tears sprang from her eyes anew at the memory of her lost older brother.

"And then, when you didn't come home at Thanksgiving, it felt like Dawn was stealing you away from me, from us. I was terrified that she would cause you harm because I wouldn't be there to protect you."

John was silent as he assimilated this additional information. He began to see why his mother had cocooned him from so many 'dangerous' situations. He did find the fault in her logic, however, about why her brother had died. It wasn't the girlfriend's fault. But Susan had to place the blame on someone. She couldn't blame Jimmy for making poor choices.

"Mom, I think it was just purely bad luck that Jimmy died that night. Unless his girlfriend had made him drink and then drive home drunk, she wasn't to blame for what happened." He paused for a moment, then continued.

"So, it's not just Dawn; it would have been anyone I brought home. Is that right?"

Sniffling, Susan nodded her head.

"Okay, we're making progress here. Now, did you honestly expect me never to find someone to share my life with?" He waited for her to respond.

"I hadn't given it a lot of thought, to be truthful," she replied.

"Well, if I didn't ever find someone, how would you ever have grandchildren?"

Susan looked at John's face in shock.

"You... you're... you're not telling me that you've gotten her pregnant, are you?" Susan stammered.

"No, Mom, she's not pregnant; at least, not that we know of. I know you and she had a difficult talk while she was here. I want to assure you that we take lots of precautions. Neither one of us needs that sort of complication in our lives right now. I know it has only been two and a half months, but I know, deep in my heart, that she's 'The One'. We just need time and space to prove it to each other and everyone else."

"But how can you know she's 'The One'? You haven't had many, if any, girlfriends."

"No thanks to you on that score." Susan blushed slightly at his accusation. "When you know, you know. She completes me and makes me a better human being. Be honest, Mom; you don't really have an issue with Dawn, do you?"

Susan made a face and admitted, "No, I don't have an issue with Dawn. Like you said, she's kind and considerate. She has your father and brother wrapped around her little finger already. She quickly charmed both my parents and your father's. And she was nice to me, despite my attitude."

John nodded as his mother confessed.

"So, hear me now and hear me good, mother. We will not marry until after we both graduate from college. We will take every precaution not to start our family early, but we're going to enjoy the heck out of each other like young people should. Mom, I think you owe her an apology for your behavior for which there was no excuse. Oh, and I never, ever, want to hear you refer to her as 'Daisy Mae'." John's final words were sternly and resolutely spoken. "Are we clear on that?"

"Yes, John."

Susan cast her eyes to the floor and didn't notice his approach. Suddenly, she was enveloped in his arms. For the first time in a long time, she felt his kiss on her cheek.

"I love you, Mom, but sometimes you really piss me off. Let's not have a repeat of this, okay?"

Susan had no idea where this adamant version of her little boy came from, but she could not deny its presence. Still holding him close, she nodded her agreement.

"Good. Now, what's for supper?" John asked.

End of Part 7 of "The Greatest of These is Love"

Part 8 is coming