Too Late

Matt and his family aren’t close. They never have been. They’ve spent the last eighteen years going through the motions of polite small talk when left alone together. Matt doesn’t remember a time when they talked about anything real.

They don’t talk about their feelings. They smile politely at each other and eat dinner together every night. To someone on the outside, they would probably look like a perfect family. They’re fairly wealthy, they live in a big house in Concord, Massachusetts, and they throw a big Christmas party every year. 

Matt grew up living with his mother, his father, and his older brother, Rod. He was always around them, but was extremely lonely most of the time. His father works for a bank. He’s constantly at work. His mother doesn’t work. She spends most of her time trying to make their already over-decorated house and lawn look nice. She seems to have an obsession with appearance. She wants their family to appear perfect. Of course their family isn’t perfect. They barely talk to each other and they’re all flawed people in their own ways. But that doesn’t matter as long as the family looks perfect. If something isn’t perfect, they don’t talk about it. That’s just how their family is.  

Rod got out of their emotionless, tension-filled home as soon as he possibly could. He dropped out of high school and moved to Seattle thirteen days after his eighteenth birthday. Not that he and Matt were close anyway. They’re nine years apart in age and have absolutely nothing in common. Rod is reckless, rude, and immature. He spent his high school years doing very stupid things with very stupid people. Matt is pretty sure he sells drugs for a living. Matt, on the other hand, is well behaved, hardworking, and shy. They have very little to talk about. The only thing they have in common is a subconscious resentment towards their parents and a desire to move out as soon as possible.

It’s not that they have bad parents. Matt and Rod were comfortable and healthy for most of their childhood. But they were both affected by the lack of emotional availability in their family. Matt feels like they are two vastly different products of the same emotionless upbringing. Rod has a need to be with people at all times and a desire to rebel against the model of perfection pushed upon him by his mother. Matt is highly independent but has trouble in social situations and is constantly holding himself to higher standards than he can handle. Matt remembers the day Rod moved out. Matt was nine. He didn’t understand it at first, but now he does. The freedom is exhilarating. He can’t wait to get away from this place he feels trapped in.

He’s making the four hour trip to New York City today for college. His mother’s joining him on the trip since he won’t be keeping his car in New York. He’d much rather drive himself, but his mother seems oddly sentimental about him leaving and insisted on driving him. It was rather out of character for her, but he agreed.

So now Matt’s somewhere in Connecticut, sitting in the passenger seat of his car (which his parents will probably sell or give to one of his cousins now that he’ll be living in a city where having a car is pointless and expensive,) while his mother sits in the driver’s seat looking at the road ahead of them.

Matt doesn’t like being alone with his mother. He doesn’t hate her or anything, it’s just uncomfortable. They were never close. Matt has very different views than his mother on most issues and they just don’t have much to talk about. He sometimes feels angry at his mother for the way she makes him feel. She’s outwardly friendly, but Matt can feel her judgement. He doesn’t even think it’s intentional. That’s just how she is and she makes no effort to change that.

When Matt was fifteen he came out as gay. It didn’t go over well. He told Rod first. Rod was unsupportive and basically told him it was either a phase or something was seriously wrong with him. By the time their parents found out, Matt was fed up with the whole situation and told his parents that he didn’t care what they thought. It was the only time Matt ever yelled at his parents. They clearly didn’t approve. Their family, and the people they associate with, are very religious. Something Matt does not agree with. He’s sure having a gay athiest for a son doesn’t fit his mother’s version of perfect. But, in the true fashion of their family, it never came up again. Matt and his mother don’t talk about it. He thinks she likes to pretend it isn’t true. 

“Matthew?” His mother breaks the silence.

Matt doesn’t look up from the book he has in his lap. He gave up on having conversations with his mother years ago and his mind is preoccupied with thinking about college. He’d rather spend this ride in silence. He hums in response anyway.

“Are you nervous about starting college?” She asks.

“Not really.” He answers, still not looking up from his book. It’s a lie. He’s terrified. But he and his mother don’t talk about their feelings with each other.

“Really?” She seems surprised. “I remember being so scared to live on my own when I was your age.” 

“I think I’ll be okay.” Matt answers. 

If his mother notices the annoyance in his voice, she doesn’t show it. She’s genuinely trying to have a conversation. 

“You’re very self-sufficient, Matthew. You’ll do great. But if you need anything, you can always call home.”

“Will do.” Matt says. He’s being a little blunt with his mother today. Maybe because he’s so close to freedom that he doesn’t feel the need to entertain her polite conversations. In contrast, his mother is being much friendlier than usual.

“What are you most excited for?” She asks after a short lull in the conversation. 

“I don’t know.” He answers. 

“I bet you’ll make a lot of friends!” She tries.

Matt laughs at that. In the last eighteen years, Matt has had one friend. A kid named Carter who only really hung out with Matt because he was also an outcast with no friends. Matt isn’t good with people. They make him nervous and he tends to stay away from them.

“What’s funny about that?” His mother asks.

“Oh, nothing.” Matt says, quietly. He’s irritated with his mother, but he doesn’t want to get into it.

“Come on!” She encourages, laughing uncharacteristically. “Talk to me!”

“Oh. You wanna talk to me?” Matt laughs, surprising himself. He’s not usually like this. He really doesn’t want to have an argument. It just makes him uneasy that his mother wants to have a real conversation with him. It bothers him that she’s choosing the day he moves out to do that.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asks.

“Nothing.” Matt says, trying to end the conversation. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just a little overwhelmed. Forget it.”

“No.” She says, pushing him to tell her more for the first time in his life. “What is it?” 

Matt sighs, finally looking up from his book. “Fine.” He says, “You and I have never had a real conversation. We say ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ and go about our lives separately, but we do not enjoy each other’s company and we do not talk about our feelings. 

Any issues we have—with each other or otherwise—we do not share with each other. That is our relationship. That’s how it’s always been. That’s clearly something you decided a long time ago. I don’t understand why you’re choosing now to try and change things up.” 

She’s quiet for a while. When she finally speaks, it comes out soft. “I’m just going to miss you. You’re my son. I love you.” She says.

“This the first time you’ve ever shown any interest in how I feel.” Matt mutters, looking back down at his book.

“You’re not acting like yourself, Matthew.” She seems worried.

“How would you know how I act? ” 

“You’re my son!” She says again. She sounds hurt. Matt doesn’t look up.

“Okay. Then how come you’ve never wanted to talk to me before?” Matt asks, still annoyed.

“We talk!” His mother says.

Matt laughs dryly. “We make small talk!” He says, “It’s like we’re acquaintances! We talk about things like my grades, and dad’s day at work, and the weather!” 

“Why didn’t you tell us you felt this way?” She asks.

“I told you.” Matt says, “We don’t talk about serious things. You don’t want to hear about how I feel. You don’t know half the stuff I worry about.” 

“Tell me!” She shouts. Matt’s never heard his mother be loud. It startles him, but he continues.

“We don’t have a relationship where I can. I’m not comfortable talking to you about anything. Maybe if you had made more of an effort when Rod and I were younger, we’d be closer. But we’re not. And I don’t want to talk about it. So can we just drive and not talk, please?” 

His mother doesn’t answer. She looks like she might cry. It makes him uncomfortable. It’s not that he wants to upset his mother. He knows that, in her own way, she’s probably just trying to reach out to him before it’s too late. He’s going to a different state and they both know he probably won’t come back, other than to visit now and then. She’s probably just emotional about losing her youngest son. Even if he doesn’t exactly fit the perfect mold she’s tried so hard to create for their family, this still must be hard for her. He tries to remember that and makes a mental note to try to be nicer to her for the rest of the ride. This is hard for both of them. They’re both transitioning into a new version of life.

He doesn’t want to think about it today though. There is a part of him that feels good about getting everything off his chest. He closes his book and looks out the window at the highway. He knows they’ll never talk about this again. It’s just another problem they’ll pretend not to have. But he’s glad he got it out. Hopefully, college will be a new start. Maybe he will make some friends. This will be good for him. He just has to get through this uncomfortable drive with his mother and then he’s free. He’s feeling optimistic.