For as long as Amy could remember, she and her mother had done everything together.
Lauren had had Amy quite young -- at twenty-one, only two years after her older brother Rob. Growing up, their closeness had often alienated her brother, and with their parents divorced and their father out of the house, she knew that Rob had often felt like a stranger in his own home. It almost seemed like a relief when Rob went to college, leaving Amy and her mother alone -- at least for a couple of years.
Amy and her mother were the same in many ways -- the same lean, athletic features, the same brown hair and brown eyes. Even the shape of their lips was the same, full and narrow. And they had similar taste in men -- Scott, her mother's boyfriend, was a blue-collar tee-shirt-and-jeans kind of guy through and through, and Amy's latest boyfriend, Ian, was much the same.
The only major difference was in the level of freedom Amy enjoyed. Her mother, by her own admission, had been given what she felt was too much freedom, and was determined not to let Amy make the same mistakes. She'd encouraged Amy to stay a virgin until college, to "play things safe" with Ian, and not to make her life as challenging as Lauren's had been.
And that had worked out fine for both of them -- until the summer after Amy graduated from high school.
# # #
It was a warm, breezy Friday night in early July. Lauren lay curled up on the couch, watching television, when a knock sounded at the door. Sighing at the interruption of her solitude, she fished the remote from between the cushions and paused the DVD player. She padded to the front door in her bare feet, clad in tee shirt and sweat pants, her straight dark hair held back by a headband.
She opened the door, and her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Ian," she said.
Ian stood on the porch, looking uncomfortable in the battered army jacket he'd inherited from his father, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. His blonde stuck up in tufts.
"Is Amy here?" he asked.
Lauren turned her head a bit, narrowing her eyes at him. "No," she said. "I thought she was supposed to be out with you." Amy had declared her intention to go out on a date with Ian not three hours earlier.
"She was," Ian said. He looked down at his shoes. "We had a fight."
"A big one?"
"A big one," he said.
Lauren stood there a moment, and the silence stretched into uncomfortable seconds. Ian hopped from one foot to the other, clearly discomfited.
"Do you want to come in?" Lauren asked at last.
He nodded. "Sure."
He walked inside, Lauren following him. Lauren liked the house dark when she was alone, and so the only illumination came from the steady, pale light of the television and the faint glow of the of the kitchen lights down the hall.
"Sorry I interrupted your movie," he said.
"This? Oh, I've seen it dozens of times." She grabbed the remote and turned off the television. "Have a seat. Talk to me."
Ian sat down on the couch, and she sat next to him, curling her feet up under her. "Do you want anything?" she asked. "Coffee?" She paused. "A beer?"
"No, thanks," Ian said, rubbing his hands on his knees nervously. He smiled nervously and ran his hand through his hair again, an affectation she found endearing. She remembered when she'd first met Ian -- her first thought had been not of happiness (or concern) for her daughter, but a pang of well-meaning jealousy. Ian was young, athletic, and handsome, but just clumsy and dorky enough to be charming.
"So, what did you two fight about?" Lauren asked.
"Um..." Ian winced. "It's... not a big deal."
Lauren grinned, resting her elbow on the back of the couch. "Not a big deal? Ian, you showed up on my doorstep, and I'm guessing that the fact that Amy is not here means that Amy ran off somewhere. Which means that it's probably a big deal."
"Yeah," Ian said, and sighed. "Look, maybe I should just go..."
"Ian," Lauren said, and placed her hand on his knee. He started a bit, and then relaxed. "You can talk to me. I'm not going to hurt you."
"You might," Ian said.
"Might what?"
"Hurt me. When you find out what..." he trailed off into silence.
"Ian, what are you talking about...?" Lauren's eyes widened. "Oh. I see. That."
"Yeah," Ian said.
"So you wanted to..."
"Yeah."
"And Amy..."
"Didn't," Ian said.
Lauren nodded. "I see." That took longer than expected, she thought to herself. She was certain she'd be faced with this particular teenage challenge years earlier.
"Look, if you're going to lose it on me, just not the face, okay?" Ian joked weakly.
Lauren put a hand over her eyes. "You know what, I think I'm going to get that beer," she said, got up from the couch, and walked to the kitchen.
Ian sat in the dark, listening to the fridge open, the clank of bottles, the hiss of caps being pried off. Lauren walked back with one in each hand, and offered him one as she sat down beside him again.
He took it with a smile. "Thanks," he said quietly.
Lauren flopped back down on the couch, taking a drink -- a long one.
"Do you hate me right now?" Ian asked.
Lauren stroked her hair, tilting her head aside and looking at him. "No," she said finally. "I'm just a little... you know how close Amy and I are."
"I know," he said.
"And you know how protective of her I am. I've tried to teach her to be careful about this kind of thing. I don't want her first time to be because a guy pressured her into it."
"I didn't press--"
Lauren held up her hand. "Just let me finish. I don't want her first time to be something she's going to regret, with some guy who might leave her, or hurt her, or try to make her do something that she's not ready to do. And I don't think that Amy is ready, Ian. And I don't think that she thinks she's ready, even if you think that she's ready, or that you're ready, or..." She sighed. "I'm babbling. You made me babble."
"It's okay," Ian said. "Lauren, I just want you to know that I don't want to hurt Amy. I love her. I'm in love with her. I think. I mean--"
She smiled. "Don't hurt yourself, Ian. I was a teenager once too. It's confusing.
