I dropped the phone, rubbing a hand over my abs and really fucking hoping I didn’t get sick, what with the way I suddenly didn’t feel so great and all. But no fucking way was I going to let that happen. I wasnotcancelling on Andy—fuck, I wished I was already there right now—so I sucked in a few deep breaths to try to calm the jitters, then focused on remembering how to do that hippie breathing calming thing Nichol was such a fan of.
What would probably work better was being ass up over Andy’s knee again, but since that wasn't an option, I closed my eyes and took a breath through my nose, inflating my diaphragm and then holding my breath for a count of—
“Fuck,” I snapped when my phone rang with my mother’s ringtone, breaking my concentration. I swiped to answer, my knee starting to bounce. “Hey, Meredith.”
“Jordan,” she said over the sound of something loud in the background. Loud and outdoors, if I had to guess. “I saw a missed call from you?”
“Just a butt dial,” I said, fiddling with a stray piece of shiny Christmas garland on my desk. “Where you at, anyway?”
She laughed, sounding as free as a bird and loving life, as per always. “An outdoor market!” she said. “It’s in Morocco. Didn’t I send you a postcard? You’d love it here, darling. It’sdivine.”
I rolled my eyes. She figured I’d “love it” everywhere she went. Just not enough that she’d actually wanted to take me with her twenty years ago, back when she’d decided that marriage and motherhood were too stifling and that she needed to go follow her dreams and find herself without being tied down to social constructs like “family” or "giving a shit."
Whatever, though. I was over it.
“You planning on staying there through Christmas?” I asked, flicking the garland onto the floor and spinning my chair away from my desk as I reached up to fuck with my earring again.
I should definitely change them out.
“Oh, we’ll see,” she said airily. “I haven’t really made any plans for that yet.” Of course she hadn’t. “They don’t celebrate Christian holidays here, but I guess itiscoming up soon, isn’t it? What are you and your father doing for Christmas?”
Me? Fuck-all. Dad? Fuck if I either knew or cared. I’d had more than enough of him telling me what a piece of shit I was by the time I’d been eighteen, and since both of us were sick and fucking tired of me being such a goddamn burden on him by then—which he insisted I’d somehow managed to do even though I swear to fuck I’d spent more time at Nichol’s house than I ever had at his—the minute I was able to get the fuck out, following Nic all the way across the state when she’d left for college and then crashing on her couch until the channel had taken off enough for me to start helping with rent, I’d left and never looked back.
“Oh,” my mother said when I failed to answer. “Are you two still at odds?”
Nope. We were atnothing. That was the beauty of having no contact. But sinceI knew my mother didn’t like negative energy to block the call of her inner self or whatever it was—she’d schooled me early not to bother her with anything that I couldn’t present in a positive light—I’d never bothered to spell that out for her.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, already knowing she didn’t.
“That’s an excellent philosophy, Jordan!” she said with a tinkling laugh that faded a little at the end, as if she’d turned away from the mic. “Worry never did anyone any good, now did it?”
“Nope,” I said, bouncing to my feet. “Hey Mom, I’ve got to get going, so—”
“Jordan,please,” she cut in, voice suddenly back to full volume. “You know I prefer that you call me Meredith. ‘Mom’ is a title that limits my self-expression, and I really think our relationship doesn’t require that kind of label, don’t you agree?”
“Sure,” I said, rolling my eyes becausewhatrelationship? Hadn’t she officially decided to write that off back when she’d decided to hop a plane to Brazil instead of picking me up from kindergarten one day? But whatever. I just wanted to get off the phone already. “I've got to go,Meredith,” I said.
“Wadaeaan, darling,” she said cheerily, disconnecting the call before I could.
Guess that meant goodbye... and maybe I was more like her than I’d known, because suddenly I needed a change of scenery, too.
It was still too early to head over to Andy’s, so I guess a second round at the gym?
Paolo pulled into his parking space just as I was pulling out, which would have been perfect—avoidance for the win—if I hadn’t gotten two blocks away before remembering that Andy had told me to bring a change of clothes and I’d left that shit in a bag by the door. I mean, I did have my gym bag in the trunk already, but besides the fact that the clothes in there were already nasty from the workout I’d done that morning—so fuck, heading back for another was going to either be gross or not happen; hadn’t really thoughtthatone through—my gym bag didn’t have the extra toothbrush I’d packed for Andy’s, or any of my face shit.
Not that he probably actually wanted me to sleep over—and not that I should anyway—but I mean, just in case. Except… did I really want to go back into the apartment and deal with Paolo bitching at me about something else? Not that I knewwhat, but lately, it was always something. And just… fuck.
Fuckingfuck.
There was just no fucking win here, like suddenly the day had just gone to pure shit, and I squeezed the steering wheel so hard something cracked.
“Perfect,” I said sarcastically, shaking my hand out and trying for another one of Nichol’s Zen-breath things.
When that failed, I gave in and turned the car around. In and out, that was my plan, and thankfully, my bag was still right inside the door where I’d left it even though Paolo had gotten into the habit lately of taking shit I left there and tossing it into my room like a dick. Guess he hadn’t been home long enough yet, though, so maybeonething could go right today… or not. Because I’d grabbed it and was almost back out the door when he popped out of the kitchen to commence the bitching at me.
“Jordan,” he called sharply when I tried to keep going and pretend I hadn’t seen him. “Did you get the note I left you about Christmas Eve?”
A note? Why the fuck he couldn’t just fucking message my phone like I’d asked him to, I had no clue. But no, I hadn’t noticed any fucking note.
