Page 46 of Don't Leave Me Behind
“Oh, yeah, a newsletter, or even posts on your website, would be great. Testimonials, too.”
“Like reviews? I think we have one of those Yelp pages, and I’ve seen a few happy commenters on the Facebook app.”
I smile. No matter how many times we tell her she can call it internet, Facebook, or Google, she always adds intheto the title. It’s adorable, and I love her for it.
“Yeah, testimonials would be kind of like reviews, but there could be little pop-ups on your website pages. Just so people can see snippets of what clients think of their time with you. Do you have anyone fill out surveys after they stay?”
“I think Annie was setting something up on the website before she left.”
“Oh, Annie left?” I knew there was supposed to be someone running the pages.
“She did. Went and fell in love with one of them hotshot firemen and moved closer to the mountains.”
“Oh.” I’m surprised; Annie was one of the most introverted people I’ve ever met. I never would have pictured her with the type of person who can run toward danger. “Wow, good for her.”
“Yeah, very,” my mom says, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s delicious, Leni. I’ve never been attracted to muscle heads, but he is one hunk of a man.”
“Oh, God. Mom!” I burst into laughter. I can’t believe she’s talking about a man who’s likely younger than most of her sons. Good Lord.
“I’ve been reading some of those books you review on the Instagram.” My eyes bug out of my head, mouth dropping open in horror. I’m not a book reviewer by any means, but I enjoy tracking what I read with a quick little review on my Instagram stories. I had no idea mymotherwas following them andreadingthem. “They’re very…enlightening.”
“No, stop. Please, I beg you. I do not want your take on my books! Please don’t ruin smut for me.”
“Is that what they call it these days? Smut? We used to call them Harlequin novels, and the covers were always the same half-naked man with long flowing hair. Now they’re so adorable. You think you’re picking up a cute little love story, and the sex hits you out of nowhere. I’ve had to ask your Pa to help me figure out how some of the things they do work out in real life.”
“Oh, God. Yup...you’ve officially ruined it for me. Now I can’t post any of the books I read because I’ll be worried that you’re reading them!”
“Don’t worry, honey. The fantasy stories aren’t for me. I prefer the cowboy romances.”
Burying my face into the cushion of the chair, I scream. What have I created? My mom is reading cowboy romances, while her sons are out working on a cattle ranch. Good God, this is what nightmares are made of. I glance at the new cowboy romcom on the side table and make a mental note to put it away immediately. No more cowboy romances for me.
“I’m getting distracted. I brought up Annie because I wondered if you’d be willing to take a look at what she set up. I know you have your program in Benson, but maybe you could write some posts remotely? I can have someone take photos during events and give you a synopsis that you could put a pretty spin on. I’d pay you, too. It’d be an easy little side gig for you.” Ma’s voice gets quieter, and I can hear the silent aching behind it, the hopefulness in her tone. Anything to get me closer to home, and closer to her.
“Ma, you know I don’t want your money.”
“I’m not giving it to you like some kind of handout, Eleanor. I pay my employees.”
“I don’t know that I want to be your employee, Ma.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, no shuffling or sandwich making, just one deep breath into her lungsas she processes. We haven’t had a fight in almost seven years now. I didn’t talk to her from the beginning of my freshman year to the summer between my sophomore and junior years. I stayed in Benson year-round and worked my ass off to afford school and the shitty little apartment I subleased for the summer. I worked odd jobs throughout high school, but I never knew what it meant to struggle until that summer. I missed my mom. My family. It was hard working through that fight with her, letting her back into my life when she left it so easily.
Weekly therapy sessions helped. It was the one thing I let them pay for, and I’m fucking glad I did.
“You’re right, that wouldn’t do. I need a partner. I’d like to slow down some. Maybe take on a few less responsibilities. You could?—”
“Ma,” I stop her. “I have a full-time job.” Yup, absolutely going straight to hell. “I don’t have time to be a partner in your business.”
“I suppose not,” she sighs. Not the condescending kind, but the kind of sigh you feel down into your bones when you’re weary.
“I should let you go, Ma.” I know where conversations like this one end up, and I’m not willing to go there tonight. She wouldn’t guilt-trip me directly, but I know she misses me. I miss her and my dad so much. I just…I don’t see how anything has changed. “Love you.”
“I love you too, Leni dear.”
It’sdark out by the time I hear Clay’s pickup rumble up the driveway. Glancing at the clock, I realize it’s already nine o’clock, that’s basically the middle of the night, ranch time. He must have been up and out of the cabin by four a.m., at least.
Clay comes up the stairs, dirt coating his clothes and face. He gives me a soft smile before heading toward the bathroom. “Gonna grab a shower.”
I follow him, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom before he can close the door. He quirks an eyebrow, hands going to his hips as I raise one hand and pick at my nails.
