Page 85 of The Irresistible Distraction

Since there was no reason to get Seba up early, I let him sleep in and eat breakfast on the way to school. By this afternoon, after seriously considering Brody’s cookie idea and looking at new flooring, tiling, and booth options Cally sent over, I feel as productive as I’ve ever been.

It is incredible.

And it’s in this mood that I greet Sebastian when I pick him up. My son gives me a perplexed look as he buckles his seat belt. “Why are you so happy?” Without prompting and even though Nate’s standing not too far away, waiting for his mother to come, Sebastian reaches over and gives me a quick hug.

“I’m usually happy, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re usually harassed and stressed, and sometimes you’re anxious and angry but trying not to look angry.”

Sebastian’s voice is calm and matter-of-fact. This isn’t a young boy lashing out because he’s feeling hurt or having a bad day, he’s just reciting the facts as he understands them.

It’s a lot to unpack, and so I take a deep breath before I reply. “That’s really how you think of me?”

Sebastian sighs. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, but yeah. I mean, I get that it’s hard being a single mom, but there are days when you come home, talk with Vera a tiny bit while practically falling asleep at the dining table, and then when we actually get home, all you want to do is make sure I’ve done my homework and go to bed.”

I keep both hands on the steering wheel and try to keep my voice steady as I ask, “If you think I’m this . . . angry all the time, why didn’t you talk to me about this?”

“Uhh . . . and make you more stressed?”

“Right.” Deep breaths, I remind myself.

“You’ve been blowing up less, since Brody.” He must see the look of pain that crosses my face, because he’s quick to correct himself. “Not that you like yelled or anything, or at least you don’t yell nearly as often as some of the other guys’ moms, but you get . . . agitated.”

My eyes tear up a little because there’s a lot of guilt there, a lot of anxiety over whether I’ve spent too much time worrying about academics and social skills, track or medication. Clearly not enough time just talking to him.

“I’ve been thinking the same about you—that you’ve been in a bad mood since Christmas.”

“Did Dad tell you about his fight with Mackenzie?” Sebastian’s tone is clipped.

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

Sebastian looks down and shakes his head.

“Are you sure?” I don’t usually push, but outside of this past week, Sebastian has seemed moodier.

“Can you just not?” Sebastian’s voice is low, angry, and hurt in a way that I don’t know what I’ve done to trigger. “Don’t ask, okay?”

“Sure.” I grip the steering wheel a little more tightly, but a couple of deep breaths later, I pick a safer topic and we spend the rest of the ride talking about Nate, Aidan, and all the other boys who are going camping this weekend, leaving Saturday afternoon and coming back late Sunday night.

Once home, I finally confirm that I did leave a mark on Vera’s wall, right near the front door. But it’s small and . . . you’d have to be looking for it to see it. Seba sees me looking, and so I end up rushing us out for our walk with the dogs. Even though we could just as easily eat at our house, I find myself doing all the food prep in Vera’s kitchen.

It’s almost four thirty by the time Brody pulls into the driveway, meaning I was a few minutes away from calling and making sure he didn’t get lost along the way.

He comes in looking a little tired, but otherwise . . . intact?

Still, the first words out of his mouth are, “I might need a raise.”

Throughout dinner, other than repeating the raise request, he entertains us with stories of how his day went. Brody also tells me that Sally and Rachel texted in their group chat⁠—

“You have a group chat with Sally and Rachel?”

Brody looks at me like, Duh, and then offers to add me before explaining that this Friday, Aidan’s dad, Ed, has offered to take a group of boys to the Blue Jay Cinema.

“Yes!” Sebastian’s exclamation is all boyish excitement. He looks at me. “I should have asked. I’m sorry. I can go, right?”

“As long as all your homework’s done, and if you can, try to get a little ahead⁠—”

“Because I’m going camping Saturday, I know.” Sebastian’s voice, though, is more pleading than petulant, and it’s easy to give in, knowing how happy it’s going to make him. I don’t think it’s my fault—not really—but Brody’s natural gregariousness does seem to be making this part of life easier. For the first time in years, Sebastian has real options. People are inviting him directly, mothers are also obviously reaching out to Brody, directly.