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Langa slid into a plush seat across the restaurant table from his mom, desperate to savor this normalcy, to not acknowledge the unsaid: he was moving in a week — only an hour’s train ride away, sure, but a move nonetheless.
He wished he had Reki here, someone who was a natural at filling silences, because without the distractions of the errands they’d been running all day, Langa worried his mom would make them talk about the unsaid.
And sure enough, once their drinks had been served and their meal orders placed, she set her reading glasses on the table and fixed him with a smile.
“So, sweetie, when are you going again?”
He didn’t blame her for not knowing when he himself didn’t quite know.
Should he have gone when Reki did? After all, Reki was already there, in their ancient-but-new-to-them apartment tucked in a cozy, lackluster building.
Reki was already there, treating this leap with excitement, as he should because his new job was awesome –graphic design. Yet for the last two days, he had woken up alone in what was supposed to be their shared apartment.
All because Langa couldn’t bear to leave his mom by herself. It was either his boyfriend or his mother, and he sort of hated it.
“I’ll leave at the end of the week,” he said. That gave him six more days to do this, to join his mom on random errands and eat dinner with her and offer his company before tearing it away and only giving it back on weekend visits.
She nodded at him with worry in her eyes, and his chest clenched. He was worried, too. After his dad had passed, they’d picked each other up and helped mend the pieces of their hearts back into place, his mom bearing more of the burden than him, and now he was abandoning her.
“You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to, or if you’re not ready,” she said. “No one’s rushing you.”
“I know,” he muttered, tracing his finger through the condensation on his cup.
It was quiet for a while longer before she spoke again, more softly this time. “Reki’s not pressuring you, is he?”
Langa whipped his head up from the table with wide eyes. What? “No! That’s not – never, he’d never do that!”
His mom seemed to clock his very obvious panic because she threw up a placating hand in that annoying, almost patronizing way that parents do, and said, “I don’t mean he’s doing it on purpose, of course not. But, um, well, I know Reki gets – enthusiastic. Do you maybe feel like you got swept away in it all and it’s too late to back out?”
“I never said that,” he grumbled, a line forming between his brows.
She sighed, and unease settled into his bones. It wasn’t his mom’s fault that he couldn’t communicate for shit. He didn’t want to take this out on his mom. He didn’t want his last few days here to be tainted with tension.
“I’m excited to be on my own – or, well, on my own with Reki. To like, be adults and buy groceries and decorate our apartment. Reki can’t wait for that.” He spoke slowly and let long breaths every few words power his brain with enough oxygen to form the next ones. “I really am excited, and, um, I feel like it’s time.”
His mom’s lips spread into a smile, one that always made him feel safe and happy and loved, that now helped some of the tension ease out of his body.
“Then why are you still here, baby?” she asked.
“I’ll miss you. And –” I feel guilty for leaving you, but he couldn’t tell her that, couldn’t put that on his mom. So instead, he completed his thought with, “– it’s been us two for a long time, and, ya know, you’ll be here by yourself now.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “You know I’ve lived on my own before, right?”
“Yeah, twenty years ago.”
“Thank you, smartypants.” And she reached across the table to squeeze his right cheek in her hand, turning the skin there red, and the rest of his face flushed with embarrassment to match.
“We’re in public, Mom.”
“Then maybe you should watch how you speak to me in public.” The mirth in her eyes made him laugh; he couldn’t help it. It reminded him how much his mom loved teasing and banter, and how happy she’d been when he’d finally been able to crawl out of his depression and get into battles of sarcasm with her again.
He would miss it. He’d miss the familiar way his tongue folded around the syllables of a language he only ever spoke with his mother nowadays (although Reki tried his best). He’d miss hearing all about her day when she got home from work. He’d miss her hand on his head when she knew he wanted both comfort and space.
He was going to miss his mama.
And he knew Reki must be missing his own mother and sisters, too. He may not have the same guilt as Langa since his mom wouldn’t be alone, she’d still have her other children, but he was wrestling with a different kind of guilt at not being around daily to watch the twins grow up.
Langa’s arms ached to wrap themselves around Reki.
He glanced up at his mom, who was still smiling at him with that fond and mischievous glint in her eyes, and he thought it was possibly a little dumb that he was still here instead of embarking on a new journey with his partner. Things would change between him and his mom when he was no longer a roommate but a visitor, but that didn’t mean he would never again have dinners and head pats and jokes and long talks with her.
It would just be a bit different.
“Langa, I’ll miss you. Of course I will, because you’re my baby. But this is what parents want – for their babies to grow up and get out there and experience the world. If you wanted to experience the world right from our apartment for the rest of your life, I’d support you.”
She paused to giggle at Langa’s eye roll.
“But it doesn’t sound like that’s what you want, is it?”
He shook his head.
“You can always come home whenever you need to. You know that.”
Her eyes watered a little, not enough to collect and drip down her face, but enough that they glistened in the shitty restaurant lighting.
The server arrived then with the food, breaking the moment, but soon they were alone again. Once they’d given thanks for their meals, the conversation continued, which Langa found that he didn’t mind. He actually wanted to clear it all up instead of leaving anything unsaid.
“I’m just so proud of you,” she whispered. “Your dad would be proud, too.”
His throat swelled nearly shut, and he almost didn’t trust himself to speak, but he managed to choke out, “Love you, Mom.”
“I love you more.”
A few days later, Langa and Reki are cuddled on their bed, freshly showered after a long afternoon of plastering their walls with Reki’s posters and some paintings they found at a secondhand shop that morning.
Reki somehow managed to live a whole five days with blank walls, which is a century for him, because he wanted them to decorate their new home together.
Langa may or may not have blushed profusely when he heard that, when the phrase “our home” left his boyfriend’s lips.
Now, that boyfriend is asleep and drooling on Langa’s t-shirt, and Langa squeezes his arm a little tighter around Reki’s shoulder to remind himself that this is real. He’s 21-years old. He has a job interview tomorrow. He moved out of his mom’s house yesterday. And he lives with his best friend, the boy he’s been in love with for nearly 4 years now.
He’s an adult, maybe, sort of.
His phone vibrates on the pillow next to his head.
Mom: [IMG]
Mom: My coworker took home a stray cat today 🐱 Look at his little face! 😍😭
Langa grins. He’ll have to show Reki the picture when he wakes up.
Or maybe not. He doesn’t want Reki getting any ideas.
Another vibrate.
Mom: Hope you had a good day! 😄☀️❤️
Me: Cute cat. And it was a good day. We decorated some
Mom: 😱 Video call? 👀
Me: Reki’s asleep. Tomorrow? And stop using so many emojis
Mom: Tomorrow then! 🥰✅😎🎉🤣
Me: Whatever. Did you have a good day?
Mom: Don’t whatever me 😡😱
Mom: I had a great day 👍😄
They message back and forth like this for a while, the redhead still snoring on his chest, until he feels his own eyes growing heavy.
Me: I think I need to get to sleep
Mama: Okay, sweetie. Good night 😴 Sleep tight ✨ I love you! ❤️
Me: I love you more
Langa tells himself the guilt will fade eventually.
He tries not to think of his mom going to bed in an otherwise empty apartment, reminds himself that she was alone plenty of times when he slept over at Reki’s house, that she told him to do this — to do what makes him happy.
He glances around their bedroom — their bedroom — cluttered with his plushes and Reki’s clothes and boxes they’ve yet to unpack, and he feels a spark of excitement.
And, once his personal heater rolls away from him, Langa is finally able to fall asleep.