So of course it’s Labor Day weekend. And I’m running around with my head chopped off. I spent most of my morning over at my Granny’s house cooking/cleaning/preparing dishes along with her and my cousins. I was pretty much their little bitch until around 3 when I snuck out and drove over to Rob’s house. His mother came into town to visit so we decided to throw a nice lil barbecue at his place. A few of the bartenders, some of the poets around town, mutual friends we “rub shoulders” (network) with; nothing major.
But for all intents and purposes, of course it has to look like I’m just another visitor over at Rob’s house.
And for the record: Rob’s mother (Collette is her name) is an absolute DOLL! She’s a real sweetheart!
When the Deviled-Eggs ran low outside, I was already in the kitchen making some more of them (it’s like my Signature thing that everybody tells me to bring). After a while, I look up and Collette is walking into the kitchen, washing her hands and tells me she wants to help. The two of us really hit it off really well. We chit-chatted for the longest and got a better feel for each other. But I could tell that she knew what was up. I could just feel it.
And finally, this happened...
Collette: oooohhh lawd... Look at that lil floozy in my son’s face...
(I don’t look up from the bowl of boiled eggs we were peeling).
Collette: you see her?
Me: Oh yeah, that’s Ashnee out there. She’s always in his face...
Collette: (under her breath) ...always in his face...
----minutes of silence----
Collette: you know, I see the way my son looks at you.
Me: ?? (of course I’m playing stupid)
Collette: ...and I see the way you look at my son...
Me: well, how do I look at him?
Collette: the last time Rob was this happy, he was with his fiancée Stephanie.
(Remember Rob came verrrryyyy close to being married, but the two of them split. He still won’t tell me why though. Read my post "Best Head Ever! (part 2)").
Me: (I was stuck; lost for words; kinda scared. Like damn, she’s bold as fuck to bring it up like this). In my mind, I’m like “well, since the cat is out of the bag...”
She was nice enough to wait for me to gather my thoughts.
Collette: come on Hun, finish peeling those eggs. We’re just talking...
Me: Mrs. Orland, Rob is very special to me...
Collette: How long?
Me: going on 3 months now...
Collette: I love my Son regardless. But it hurts. My son knows he can tell me anything. And you’re a Minister, right?
(While I start stammering for words, Rob walks in from the patio and sees us talking).
I’m hoping he would pick up on the obvious tension between his mom and I, but Collette put her game-face back on and started acting really regular like we were just discussing the weather or something... So damn, I had to do the same.
*sighs* Rob can be so damn oblivious sometimes... He grabbed a bag of ice out of the deep freezer and went back outside, cheesing at the both of us on his way out...
Collette: are we out of Paprika?
Me: I think it must’ve fallen out of the bag. Lemme check my backseat...
I never went back in the house. I really don’t know what to say to her after that. I’m hoping she doesn’t bring it up to Rob without me being there. Hell, I don’t even know what to say to Rob.
“Hey, by the way, Bae, your mom and I were talking. She totally knows we’re together. And she’s pissed that you didn’t tell her you’re into guys sooner...”
Like, wtf...
*sighs* and this all happened like a few hours ago. She’ll be in town until Tuesday. I really want to finish the convo with her, but to be honest with ya’ll, I’m freaked out. I’ve never had to deal with this before. But I guess part of growing up is facing this type of ish, right? That doesn’t mean I have to LIKE it, but I will have to DO it.
I had to take a break and share this with yall.
I keep getting “where the hell are you” texts from Rob. I’m about to give him a call and... talk... I’ll tell him the smoke from the grill was getting to me but I didn’t want him to spazz out so I just left... That’ll keep him at bay until I can think of how to bring the Kitchen Scene up to him...
Stay tuned!
Btw, Turning to Stone by Ingrid Michaelson has been on repeat in my car all day. My gift to you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ybEIdmFffkI
Enjoy the pics and PLEASE comment/email me some advice, a nigga is really torn right now.
--Cogito
