F I C T I O N “Dad and I are buying a condo near Boulder.”
“So we can all be together on the weekends.”
“And do what?”
“You and Huston and Lola can board; Dad and I will ski.”
“Mom, I’m not into Boulder yet. Why are you jumping on Colorado? Remember my applications to Tulane and Miami? Where’s my flannel? I threw it in the laundry room yesterday. Can’t find it. I’m meeting up with Guy and Finn in thirty. Can we move on this? Chop, chop.”
“Don’t be disrespectful. I’m at the end of my rope….and prescription.”
“Chill mom. What prescription? I thought you were in a twelve step; sounds like not!”
“None of your business. I hope you never have to deal with three little whiners. The last time you even said ‘thank you’ was when we gave you the Beemer on your birthday. Now, nothing! No ‘please,’ no ‘thank you’ just a bunch of demands that make me crazy. One year of college for you, not to mention the other two kids, is going to cost more than I spent on Dr. Steinmetz all of last year. Botox isn’t cheap and if you add in the spa trips…well it’s a lot!
“Mom, get it together. Find my flannel so I can get going. I need your card, out of gas.”
“Take the Amex Black but don’t tell Dad. He’s so freaked out about everything these days. No humor, nothing. He’s thinking of selling the winery because it’s running at a loss. I told him, “Winery? Are you crazy? You only drink Scotch and what the hell do you know about wine? The Brownleys are a bad influence hon and just because they like wine doesn’t mean you had to buy a winery! God, you’re such a doormat. To be honest, you’re way too nice to Drake and Gina. Did you see that rock on her finger at the club last night? I wonder what she had to do to get that! Fake, fake, fake and I hope that diamond’s fake too. Would serve her right!”
“Mom, calm! Don’t beat Dad up! I’m outta here. Screw the flannel…later!”
“Text me, Linden, and don’t forget to pick up Huston at practice. Did you see my phone?”
“On the table, Mom. It buzzed. Gina.”
Kim Kohler writes on the uncertainties of living in a liberal hot spot where everybody has an opinion, every opinion counts and nobody uses turn signals.