“Can I let you in on a little secret?” his mother said. “The normal ones are boring.”
“Yeah—just like the boring normal guy who’s with Amy tonight. Yeah, he was sure too boring for her. And now they’re probably having the perfect prom night—”
“What is the perfect prom night?” his mother asked. “I mean, what did you have in your head?” Landon placed the empty cup down on the table.
“Well…”
“I mean, has it changed that much from when I was in school ages ago?” She glanced absently at the television for a moment before lowering the volume.
“Well…I guess there’s dancing,” he began.
“Okay.”
“Maybe a little drinking. Some goofing around with your friends. Take some pictures, and that sort of thing. Then…” Landon hoped she wouldn’t ask for more.
“Then…?”
“Then…” he repeated, looking at the clock. It was 11:09.
“Aha,” she said. “I get it. What your father and I used to do.” Landon’s eyes widened instantly, as he rarely if ever heard her mother make even the most subtle of references to her sex life. He didn’t know how to react, so he forced an uneasy smile.
“So that’s about it,” he said, trying to steer them away from the uncomfortable topic.
“Well,” his mother began. “I wish I could make the perfect prom night for you, but I didn’t even remember the champagne.”
“It’s okay, Mom.”
“Wait a minute,” she said. “I just remembered there’s a bottle of wine Aunt Bella sent us for my birthday.” She stood up abruptly. “Wait here.” Landon sat patiently as he heard his mother rummaging in the hall closet.
“Did Dad go to sleep?” he asked, feeling a faint rumble of hunger.
“Yes. Here it is—got it,” she said as she entered, carrying a bottle of red with a white label graced with some kind of family crest.
“You want me to grab glasses?”
“No; sit honey.” His mother leaned over and placed the bottle on the table and then left the room again. She was wearing what she disparagingly called her “Mom clothes:”—a shapeless, oversized light blue T-shirt and a pair of unflattering jeans that had been out of style for longer than Landon could remember. She returned to the room sporting a pair of wine glasses. “Ta da!” she said with a cheery lilt to her voice.
Landon took one of the glasses and waited patiently as his mother poured him some of the blood-red liquid. “Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome.” She took a sip, settled back on the edge of the couch cushion, and then extended the glass toward him.
“To prom night,” his mother said. “I know it’s not quite going according to plan, but at least I will manage to get you a little drunk.”
“Hear hear,” Landon said with a smile. The wine was room temperature, bitter, yet palatable. They sat and drank for a few minutes as Landon asked her about her own senior prom and she began to reminisce about the weeks and days leading up to it before getting to the actual prom, which she described in detail, including the finer points of her prom dress. He didn’t mind hearing it, as the combination of the alcohol and his mother’s pleasing voice was having a soothing effect on him.