“Cali, yes. My mother, no. She’s driving me up the wall, forcing me to go all these damn places. I’m exhausted.”
“Aw, Shana. She misses you.”
“Yeah, well I miss sleep.” She sighs. “How’d things go with Jordan the other night? Did you tell him?”
“Umm…” I feel giddy and hesitate only a second as the reality of what I’m about to say settles in. Me and Jordan. God, it feels unreal, but I can’t stop smiling. “Well—”
“Xia!” she cuts me off. “You need to tell him how you feel. It's not fair to him.”
“I didn’t have to,” I blurt out, stopping her words. “But spending the entire weekend naked did kind of change the conversation.”
“Wait… so, did you just have sex, or?”
“No.” I laugh. God, it was everything. And crazy enough, it all felt natural.
I spend the next few minutes filling her in on my sordid weekend, telling her all about how Jordan surprised me with the hotel rooms while she screams, squeals, and cheers in my ear. I’m grinning from ear to ear by the time I pull onto my mother’s street.
“He truly shocked the hell out of me. The second room was decked out like the ultimate hang out spot. There was pizza, popcorn, video games, he even had a bunch of movies we used to watch as kids.” I’m beaming. As long as I’ve known Jordan, I’ve never seen him do anything nearly as sweet as this for the girls he dated. But, maybe it’s because they weren't the ones he really wanted. I could feel bad for the other girls but instead, it makes me smile even more.
“Oh my God, so you guys are like together now? Like officially?”
“We are. It’s crazy, we just sort of dove in and… yeah.” I giggle.
“Wow, that's awesome. I'm so happy it worked out,” Shana says. “You two are so freakin’ cute together already. I can only imagine y'all as a couple.” I blush, still trying to get used to the notion.
“We are, aren't we?” I say. “He got the job with Satchi, so he’ll be gone for this training thing to prep him on university policy and what not, but… yeah. Man, it’s so different between us now.”
“But is it weird that things are different?”
“I don't think so,” I say as I near my parents’ house. I’m seconds from pulling into the driveway when I see my father's car back out and head in the opposite direction. “Hey, let me call you back,” I say watching his headlights disappear down the road.
I pull into the driveway and immediately get out. On my way to the door, I notice more pollen on my mom’s car windows, thicker than before. She couldn’t have moved the car, which is weird because she was supposed to go back to work today.
The lock clicks as I push the door open. “Mom,” I say, calling for her. What the hell was he doing here?
It’s dark and quiet as I walk through the entryway toward the living room. My mother lies in a heap of pillows asleep on the couch.
“Mom,” I say, running over and sitting in the small space that's not taken up by her body. “Hey, are you okay?” I touch her shoulder.
“Hmm.” she grunts before turning to face me.
“Why are you lying on the couch in your pajamas? Are you feeling okay?” I ask. “And weren’t you supposed to go back to work this morning?”
“I’m fine, just taking a little nap,” she says. “And I decided to work from home a little longer. I just didn’t feel like being bothered with the office.”
“But, it’s been two weeks. I’m starting to worry about you.”
“Who’s the mother here? You or me?” she snaps. “If I say I’m fine, then I’m fine. You’re going to stop questioning me, child.” Sitting up abruptly, she pushes herself from the couch and stands. I got still in my seat, completely taken aback by her sudden mood swing.
“What are you doing here so late anyway?”
“Um, well, I’m staying here for a few days. My roommate left and I didn’t want to go back to the dorms tonight. But I can go if you want.” My feelings are hurt. I don't know what’s going on with her but I feel helpless. Standing, I begin walking toward the door.
“Jelly bean.” She sighs. “You know you can come home anytime you want. I’m sorry. I just…” she pushes a hand through her unruly hair. “I haven’t been feeling myself.”
I hug her, but I’m not sure if it’s because I think she needs it or if I do. She rubs my back and rests her chin on my shoulder.
“Dad was here,” I say. “Did he come inside?”
“I don’t know. If he did, I was asleep. He didn't try to wake me or anything,” she says, pulling away.
“Oh.”
We stand quietly for a few seconds before she begins walking toward the hall, stretching her arms above her head.
“I’m going to bed.” She yawns. “Lock up if you leave tonight.”
“Sure.”
She slowly makes her way up the stairs and I sit back on the couch causing a few pillows to fall to the floor. She looks as if she’s aged. I can’t even say its sadness in her eyes anymore, it seems more profound and I don’t know what to do about it. Sighing, my eyes fall on the coffee table where an untouched sandwich and glass of water sits. A heap of crushed ice cubes float at the top of the glass as dew drips down the sides. A handwritten note lies next to it and I lean forward and pick it up.
Dell,
I picked up your pills and inhaler from the pharmacy. They are on the counter and there’s a pot of spaghetti in the fridge. Eat it. Eat something, I know you haven’t. I’m so sorry, baby, I never wanted her to come between us. Let me come back home so I can help you.
I read the note twice as tears pool in my eyes. My mother battles depression, but I’ve never seen her this low, it really sucks. He’s trying to take care of her, but why? He wasn’t thinking about her when he slept with that girl. Why try to be the standup guy now? And how much does he come here? How does he know she’s gotten so bad off?
Tossing the note back on the table, I grab the glass of water along with the sandwich and carry them into the kitchen. The moment I walk through the door the smell hits me. It’s Casper’s litter box. I cover my mouth and cough as I look through the kitchen into the mud room. His small green box is overflowing with clumps of dirty litter. Without another thought, I walk through the small space and snatch open the side door hoping to air out the room. My mother keeps a box of plastic back in the mud room near the box so it doesn’t take me long to change the litter.
Gripping the heavy trash bag, I turn toward the open door looking out to the side porch. It’s filthy, it looks like someone dropped a huge potted plant then spread the soil over the porch.
“What the hell was she doing out here?” I say, carefully making my way down the steps toward the trashcan. My father took pride in our yard, making sure it stayed trimmed and free of weeds. It looks as if he’s been out here too. Tiny grass clippings sprinkle the walkway along the house, suggesting its been cut recently. I shake my head and switch the bag to my other hand as I lift the lid of the trashcan. Once the bag is inside my eyes fall on the other side of the can. Five holes have been dug out of the fresh soil every few feet along the pathway. My brows furrow as I walk closer noticing fresh flowers dug up at the roots lying torn nearby.