“
Mom.’
‘Hmm?’ She replies from miles away in her planter’s paradise.
Deepest of breaths. ‘When Luke comes over later, would it be okay if we watched a movie in my bedroom?’
The paper goes down and she eyeballs me from over the top of her wire reading glasses.
‘Should I be worried?’
‘No.’ I shake my head, whip my hair into a frenzy.
‘Have you gotten comfortable with him touching you yet?’
‘Sort of . . .’ In retrospect, I could have probably said no.
‘What does that mean? Exactly?’ She folds You and Your Garden Monthly in half, sets it down beside her empty bowl.
‘It means we take all our clothes off, and he turns into a koala, clings to me like a tree while we watch TV.’
Mom chokes on the sip of tea she’s just taken. ‘Norah Jane Dean.’
‘It was a joke.’
‘Obviously,’ she says. ‘I’m just a little shocked you made it.’
Her shock would be less, I’m sure, if she knew how hard I was working to keep a mental image of the aforementioned out of my mind. I take half a second to wonder if Luke would find my quip amusing. It’s a joke at his expense, after all, having an abnormal girlfriend, one he can’t touch.
‘So what is “sort of” comfortable?’ Mom prods.
‘I touched his hand last week, you know, before the fear kicked in.
”
”