Читать книгу All Inclusive - Farzana Doctor - Страница 18

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If there were a Chatelaine quiz on comfort with technology, Mom would have scored as a Paranoid Luddite. She didn’t have Internet at home (“I’m on the computer all day long — why would I want to be in front of a screen at night?”) and so our conversations were scheduled for Wednesday evenings, just before she left the bank. She closed her office door, wore headphones for additional privacy, and, not wanting any traceable personal correspondence on her work computer, used a laptop. She tapped into the neighbouring Crowne Plaza’s free guest Wi-Fi. Our Skype calls had the feel of a covert operation.

Meanwhile, I sat on a couch in the Atlantis lobby where the Wi-Fi signal was reliable. I also used headphones, but only to hear her over the din around me.

“Honey, I only have ten minutes tonight. I’m sorry. I’ve got to leave soon.” Mom adjusted the laptop so that her face was centred in the box on my screen.

“Oh yeah? Where are you going tonight?” Was she wearing blush and eyeshadow? The last time I’d seen her wear that kind of makeup was at my graduation.

“I have a date. Dinner. With a man. Well, of course it’s a man,” she laughed nervously. “Someone I met on LifeLove.com.”

“That’s great, Mom. How long have you been seeing him?” I’d been encouraging her to try online dating for years, and, back in the fall, I’d walked her through the registration process and helped her craft her profile. I’d nixed “I enjoy quiet evenings at home” and replaced it with “I enjoy films, cooking, and reading.” I pressured her to post an attractive photo of herself. She hadn’t mentioned the site in a long time and I’d assumed she’ d deactivated her account.

“Since mid-January. Well, that’s when we began talking online. It’s been slow at work,” she said sheepishly.

“Mom! Why didn’t you say something before? What, that’s three months already!”

“Two and half. Oh you know. I didn’t want to make something out of nothing. We’re only just getting to know one another.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s owns a plumbing company. He has a good sense of humour. Nice man.” She paused, as though she was going to say something else. “But you’re looking a little weary. Everything okay on your end?”

“Sure. Nothing new.” I looked at my projection in the left hand corner of the screen. A new pimple had emerged on my cheek and my eyes had dark circles.

“Heard anything about the promotion yet?”

“Not yet. Our contracts are up at the end of May, so it’ll have to be before then. I’m not too worried about it,” I lied. Since the complaint, it was all I worried about. It was a relief to not have heard anything further from Anita.

I steered the conversation back to Mom’s date. They’d corresponded by e-mail for two weeks and then spoken on the phone three times before meeting in person. Mom had Googled him to verify that he was indeed a plumber who had his own business. They’d had two coffee dates and this was going to be their second dinner. According to Mom, there hadn’t been any “affection” yet.

After we hung up, I reflected on my mother’s guardedness — even with me — and how different we were from one another. Wasn’t caution a learned behaviour rather than innate? And then I thought about Azeez. Mom had described my biological father as talkative, inquisitive, open. As I’d done many times before, I wondered if I was anything like him.