Chapter 61: January 30, 1983

Yesterday we had Elliot’s second birthday party. Only one kid from his daycare actually came, I wish I didn’t think it was a race thing, but being that the other kid who came was also a mix-raced baby, I can’t help it.

But we had other people that Eliot loves come. Melanie had the good idea of inviting my parents since they have watched him a couple of times. My dad declined Melanie’s invitation, but my mother came. Additionally we planned for my grandmother to find out about my mother’s plans and see if it would be ok for her to accompany my mother. 

Of course it worked well, she asked my parents what they were doing for the weekend, and as soon as my mother mentioned Elliot, grandma laid it on thick. “Oh, that boy is so cute. If Scott’s not going, can I?”

My grandmother pretended to meet Melanie, Judy, and grown-up Elliot, and my mom actually met Judy and grown-up Elliot. We explained that GUE was actually the baby’s uncle, and that his brother had passed. It was an easy way to explain so much of the chaos.

As much as I love seeing my father, without him there, my mother and grandmother were able to stay a lot longer, which was nice. I hadn’t had much of a chance to talk directly to my mother without my father there since traveling back, and some of the awkwardness of that was avoided. I was waiting on people, which gave me more natural ins for conversation.

It was also the first time I saw just how young my mother is. Not her appearance, but her in general. She’s not even 22 yet, and she seems so naive. It’s weird to think that in just a few years, when the other me’s memories start to form that she will seem like this wise woman, and not this bright eyed kid.

I got a call this morning, early before my grandparents went to church.

“Mike, I just had to tell you, because it was too funny, but on the ride back from the party, Maria said to me, ‘you know, he really reminds me of Scott. I hadn’t noticed it before. Apparently when you spoke to Melanie across the party, your voice boomed similar to your father’s.”

“You know, my other grandmother, when I was in my late teens and early twenties, when she called the house would confuse me and my father too.”

“Oh, I bet. I’m kind of glad you don’t call me here, I think I’d blow your cover if I got used to that and your father called.”

I laughed, and felt as normal as I had in the 80s.