Page 34 of Holding Out for a Gyro
“Hey, Mom.” I always hated talking about money with her. “Um, I was looking through my bank statement, and I noticed you didn’t cash my check.”
“That’s right.” Her voice sounded gritty. Like I’d woken her after a bender. “I texted you to let you know I’m good.”
“What does that mean, Mom? Are you taking your medication?”
“Yes, hon. I just didn’t need the extra cash, but thank you. It was thoughtful.”
Thoughtful.I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to force this into logic. “Did you get paid yesterday?”
“I did. Everything’s fine. No need to worry.”
If she didn’t want to take the money, I couldn’t force her, but I legitimately feared she’d suddenly cash it in three months when I’d already spent it. “Can you tear it up so I know it won’t get cashed by accident?”
“You want me to mail you the evidence, too?” she snapped.
“I’m not trying to offend you, Mom, but I like to keep my bank account balanced.” I couldn’t stop myself from adding, “You know if you need anything, you can always ask.”
“Thanks, sweetie. I doubt I will.”
Something wasn’t adding up. “Did you get another job? More hours?”
“Well, ain’t you full of questions.”
I let it go. “Okay. We can talk about what you still need from me over Thanksgiving, okay?”
“Oh, about that.”
My stomach dropped. I shook my head, knowing exactly what she was going to say next.
“Can you make other plans?”
My teeth ground together. “Where are you going to be?”
“Don’t worry your head.” She laughed, like I was the one who’d lost my mind. “I’ll be fine.”
Clouds parted. “Did you meet someone?” I didn’t know how I’d feel about that, honestly. She certainly deserved a second chance at a relationship, but she couldn’t take care of herself, much less someone else.
“No. I ain’t met nobody new.”
She was playing coy, but I couldn’t control her life, so I breathed in the good and breathed out all my anxiety over this situation. “Well, let me know if you need anything, okay?”
“Thank you. See ya at Christmas?”
“Of course.” Although maybe she’d bail on me then, too. She wasn’t very far away, and yet a mountain range divided us.
I hung up, thinking,And how are you, Chelsea?
She didn’t ask anything more about my job, my friends, my love life. I wasn’t sure at what point we’d become strangers tethered by blood. I’d done what I could to maintain a relationship with her, but I felt closer to the lady who bikini-waxed me. At least she told me she was sorry for hurting me.
I knew Mom didn’t mean to be so narcissistic. I could have offered information, but it would have meant more to me if she asked, if she cared.
Elizabeth was all decked out for trouble when I showed upat her place. This was a vast improvement over her weeks of moping. I’d worried our gambit might backfire since Evan had been so frosty to her for pranking him. I still couldn’t figure out how that had happened, but maybe tonight was a new start. Elizabeth hummed, like she hoped it was.
She loved being romanced, and she glowed from the renewed attention.
“Sorry I’m a little late. My mom called.” Her little gray-and-white cat, Jacques Lacan, hopped on my lap as I settled in front of the vanity mirror to pick through Elizabeth’s lipsticks.
“How is she?”
