LEONARDO #2
On my way out of the building, I have my phone up against my ear, calling Steph to tell her to drop by my place. "When you're free," I add when someone at the other end of the line - someone other than Steph - sneezes loudly enough.
"Alrigh, alright," Steph tells me and hangs up.
I find mom at home, between ladles and spoons, as she's setting up the layers for a veggie lasagna.
Back at home, I find mom between ladles and spoons setting up the layers for a veggie lasagna. It's a new recipe with ricotta cheese and spinach that she's just come across - scrolled down upon on Pinterest - and she couldn't help not try it. So, I sit at the table next to her to help and hand her one by one the sauces and the pasta sheets.
Only when we're done and the pot is up in the heated oven, she sits down and I gain her full attention. "Mom," I start," do you remember LEONARDO?"
In truth, I know she does. She's talked to me about it, told me to give it a shot, long before Allen has even come across it. Still, she asks, "The competition?"
I nod.
"You're going, right?" The sparkle in her eyes almost makes my heart sink. Last time we talked about it, when I didn't even hesitate to refuse, I saw the disappointment on her face. Now, there only is a smile. She knows as well as I do that we wouldn't be talking again about it unless anything changed. And things did change.
"I'm don't know," I answer, looking down at my fingers playing with the end of my blouse, " but Allen's already signed me up and I don't think I'll back down from it." I take a spoonful of what remained of her lasagna sauce. This time she went all vegetarian, but normally she makes a ragu to go with the pasta.
Her face is all a smile. "I'm really happy you want to go."
I keep my head down. "I know, mom." Because that's her: she loves me and all but she needs the kind of validation the contests and the prizes have to offer. I only want to paint, but my paitings' awards make her really happy.
She stands from her place and comes closer, taking me into her arms in an embrace. Neither of us say anything further for a while, until I finally decide to leave my place. Almost simultaneously, the sound of the doorbell ringing announces somebody's arrival. It has to be Steph.
I open the door, welcoming my best-friend into the house. Without having to tell her, she knows to immediately follow me up on the stairs to my art room, greeting my mom somewhere in the process. My eyes can't help not linger on her on our way there, so that after the door shuts behind us, the first thing I tell her is to take off her shirt.
"Alrigh, alright," Steph tells me and hangs up.
I find mom at home, between ladles and spoons, as she's setting up the layers for a veggie lasagna.
Back at home, I find mom between ladles and spoons setting up the layers for a veggie lasagna. It's a new recipe with ricotta cheese and spinach that she's just come across - scrolled down upon on Pinterest - and she couldn't help not try it. So, I sit at the table next to her to help and hand her one by one the sauces and the pasta sheets.
Only when we're done and the pot is up in the heated oven, she sits down and I gain her full attention. "Mom," I start," do you remember LEONARDO?"
In truth, I know she does. She's talked to me about it, told me to give it a shot, long before Allen has even come across it. Still, she asks, "The competition?"
I nod.
"You're going, right?" The sparkle in her eyes almost makes my heart sink. Last time we talked about it, when I didn't even hesitate to refuse, I saw the disappointment on her face. Now, there only is a smile. She knows as well as I do that we wouldn't be talking again about it unless anything changed. And things did change.
"I'm don't know," I answer, looking down at my fingers playing with the end of my blouse, " but Allen's already signed me up and I don't think I'll back down from it." I take a spoonful of what remained of her lasagna sauce. This time she went all vegetarian, but normally she makes a ragu to go with the pasta.
Her face is all a smile. "I'm really happy you want to go."
I keep my head down. "I know, mom." Because that's her: she loves me and all but she needs the kind of validation the contests and the prizes have to offer. I only want to paint, but my paitings' awards make her really happy.
She stands from her place and comes closer, taking me into her arms in an embrace. Neither of us say anything further for a while, until I finally decide to leave my place. Almost simultaneously, the sound of the doorbell ringing announces somebody's arrival. It has to be Steph.
I open the door, welcoming my best-friend into the house. Without having to tell her, she knows to immediately follow me up on the stairs to my art room, greeting my mom somewhere in the process. My eyes can't help not linger on her on our way there, so that after the door shuts behind us, the first thing I tell her is to take off her shirt.
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