It was a shit situation. Mary's mother had been laid off from her job right after New Year. Though she didn't know the exact details about their finances, Mary was certain whatever slim savings her single mother had been able to set aside had been quickly wiped out while unemployment was being sorted out.
Between the bureaucracy, the costly COBRA health insurance and Mary's deposits for college, they were in dire straights.
That's why, as shitty as it was to be left behind, Mary understood why her mother had to take the new job immediately. There were lots of nights of yelling and crying over the details. The how, the when, the why. Mary had only a few months left until she graduated high school, but those few months were more than they could afford to live without a paycheck.
In the end, it was her Uncle Adam who'd saved the day. Mary's mother had no family locally and few close friends left in the area. Adam wasn't even Mary's real Uncle, just a close neighbor that had always looked after them both through some tough times.
When Mary was much younger, she had even suspected her mom was dating Adam. The idea was laughable to her now. She'd long since sussed out her mother now had zero interest in men. Mary guessed if her mom had been born a few decades later, and hadn't been burdened with the immigrant-child guilt of starting a family, her mom would be able to call herself a lesbian. Or maybe she was just asexual?
Mary had tried to prod her mother into talking about it often, especially once she'd decided to come out as queer in her early teens. It had been a tense period in what was otherwise a wonderful mother-daughter relationship. One night, with her mother still sternly silent on supporting or condemning her "choice" to come out of the closet, Mary finally understood the look her mom's eyes: "I couldn't be myself and I don't know how you can."
If they'd had the luxury of time or money for a therapist, Mary would have gladly dragged the pain out of her mother, made her understand. Maybe they would be able to, someday.
For now, her mom needed to move two hundred miles away. There was barely enough money for a plane ticket, so selling their house was the only way it was going to work.
Mary had tried to convince her mom she could stay with Emily, her girlfriend. In spite of never addressing her daughter's relationship directly, Emily's parents had always gotten along well with Mary's mom. It was hard not to love them; Emily's home radiated warmth and security in a way Mary sometimes envied. In fact, Emily was maybe too comfortable, not understanding why Mary's mom had such difficulty supporting her daughter. Mary loved Emily, but sometimes it seemed like she was living in a bit of a worry-free bubble.
Outside of the bubble, in reality, Mary knew her mom wasn't ready to let her daughter spend months sleeping over at her 'best friend's house'.
So here Mary was, crashing on a cot in Uncle Adam's study for the next few months. It wasn't too bad, especially knowing it was helping ease her mom's mind while she relocated. Things were going to work out for both of them.
Now if only Adam would ease up on the Fox News.
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Mary had spent a lot of time at Adam's house over the years, but spaces take new shapes when you live, sleep and dream within them. As close as they were, as much as she trusted him, there was still the undeniable discomfort in sharing space. The one full bathroom was awkward. She'd picked up a shower caddy, uncomfortable nesting her few toiletries among his.
After a few days of seeing her cart her shampoo and body wash to the shower, Adam offered to clear out some space for her in the cabinet.
"I know it's just for a few months, but I want you to make yourself at home. Girls need a lot more room for their makeup and what-have-you. No need to become a spartan on my account." He was sifting through his medicine cabinet, discarding dusty, half-empty bottles while Mary stood in the hallway.
"Actually, I don't really need that much space, Adam." Mary had never worn makeup, and rarely used the assorted moisturizers and hair products her mom seemed to endlessly gift her.
"Nonsense! I need to go through this mess anyway." He glanced at the expiration date on a yellowed bottle of aspirin, winced at whatever number he saw and chucked it into the bathroom trash bin with a hollow clank.
Mary opened her mouth to explain it wasn't really necessary, but decided not to be a bother. She could unpack her extra, unopened beauty products that were cluttering up her small travel bag. Adam was doing her a huge favor playing host, the least she could do was be appreciative.
Adam was sweet, giving her space most of the time, but he was... a bit out of touch when it came to her social life.
"I imagine there's some boy who's going to be heartbroken when you leave." Adam offered up over dinner the second week.
Mary reflexively snorted in gentle laughter, before she realized he was serious. Adam turned slightly red but seemed to misunderstand.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed... Well, you're quite a charming girl. I'm sure the boys around here just are too bullheaded to see it."
Mary didn't know where to begin and didn't feel like finding out exactly how progressive Adam's views were on queer culture. They'd never really discussed politics, but she knew the TV was almost always tuned into some conservative blowhard warning about 'the erosion of traditional values'.
"I know an old, out of touch guy like me probably has no place saying it..." Adam cleared his throat and prepared to offer some unsolicited advice.
Oh god, please don't say it then. Mary screamed internally, wanted to get off the topic as quickly as possible.
"I know girls these days sometimes give up. Not saying you look like that! Just, well, with your short hair and glasses..." Adam gave a vague gesture at Mary and paused to take another bit of their home-cooked pasta dinner.
Mary bit her tongue and gave a weak, noncommittal shrug.
"I'm not telling you how to dress. God knows half my closet could probably be in the Smithsonian. I just hate to see a pretty girl like you hide under those baggy clothes and dyke haircut. You're just a kid, but you don't want people thinking you're a lesbian."
Mary nearly choked but managed not to laugh in his face. She felt her cheeks flush, her anger rise, but kept her composure.
He was trying, god help him.
"This Alfredo sauce is delicious!" Mary quickly changed the subject. It was a clumsy escape from the topic, but an honest reaction. It was shockingly good for a bachelor with a self-proclaimed lack of "women's skills" like cooking.
