A Family Affair

"Mom, Scott's moving in this week."

That's right, I still haven't told my parents that I'm living with Scott and there really is no excuse. I knew if I didn't force the words out, they'd never come. In addition to being judged and feeling regulated, I don't want to tell my mother things because I simply don't trust her.

After revealing to her my medical problems, my mother immediately called my father. "I haven't spoken to Sarah in two days," she told him. "The last thing she told me is that she has a strange lump in her throat that was impeding her breathing and she's not answering the phone and I'm afraid she's dead." Which in turn caused my father to dial non-stop, and then my mother sent my brother over to my apartment to make sure I was alive and kicking. And when I didn't answer the building call-box, my mother called the police.

I just didn't feel like talking on the phone.

More recently, my brother called to see how my UTI was coming along. Then my step-sister did.

And this is normal for other families, I get that. But my family, we don't talk about anything. If we're offended by one family member, we tell all the others, but we never tell the offender. Thanksgivings and Christmases are masked in polite niceties, but not any real joy. We smile for the pictures, but the following day is plagued with phone calls about who said what, and who ruined the day. My sister-in-law ruined last Christmas, but not without my help.

There was silence at the other end of the phone. There. I finally said it, even though it was still a lie. Scott isn't moving in; he's already here.

My mother sighed. "Sarah, it's about time you settled down." What? Wha? In the midst of my fear of living in sin, of not being perfect and living by the book, I completely forgot about the part where my mother was aghast at the fact I am 26 and unmarried. That all five of my brothers and sisters were married off long before my current age. That for years, I've never even mentioned a date to her. Scott has stuck around long enough and I am finally settling down. My mother was happy.

"Scott just has to settle his debts and you two can get married. Then you buy a house and finally get all of your stuff out of my basement," my mother chirped. "Wait, how much stuff does he have?"

I can't fucking believe this.

"I mean, I can't tell you I approve," she continued. "Because I come from the old school and you aren't married. But this is great for you business-wise. You can finally afford a new car with the $500 a month you're saving. However, I will tell you I'm talking out of both sides of my mouth." She used the southern idiom to express that she doesn't mean what she just said about not approving.

I could hear her rustling on the other end. It turned out she was digging a pen out of a drawer and clicked it open. "So what's Scott's last name?"

I really must not tell her anything if she didn't know his last name, but I had a feeling she was doodling our names together by the end of the phone call.