“Oh no, we’re not?—”
I grin, listening to Cass stammer in denial.
Girlfriend. It’s got a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?
My girlfriend.
My mother meets my gaze, a scold on her face even before it reaches her tongue. “Mikhail, don’t you dare screw this up for me. My first chance at grandchildren inyears,and you want to play around?”
A ruff chuckle works its way up my throat at the sheer mortification that coats Cassandra’s face.
“N-no, it’s not him, I’m just not quite ready for any of that right now…”
Mother extends her arms, locking eyes with my girl. “What did he do? You can tell me. Sometimes all he needs is a good, clarifying smack across his head.”
“Is that so?” Cass says through her skeptical laugh. I come up behind the two, stealing my Menace back into my arms. I wait for her to push my hold away, but it never comes. She sinks back against my chest, filling me with bewildered wonder.
My mother meets me with a knowing gaze over her head.
“Come, Cassandra. I want to know everything about you. Do you play any card games?”
And just like that, the two women in my life pull away, abandoning me in the middle of the room as they wander back towards the table, a conspiratorial glint in my mother’s lit gaze.
Cassandra
Even a week later, I find my thoughts consumed by that phone call with Mikhail. With the visit to his mother. I can’t stop thinking about what happened to his family. He earned his position in such a painful way. It’s a wonder he has the capacity to open up to others at all after something like that.
I remember the guttural tone of his voice when he told me he’d wanted to kill his father himself.
I couldn’t have him hurt anyone else.The words play in my mind in circles, each loop dancing in a different direction.
It’s still plaguing me when I dial my mother for our weekly phone call. The same sinking anticipation of hearing my stepfather in the background mixes with something new.
Is that what I’m doing? Giving Joe the opportunity to hurt someone else?
“Hey, Cassy! How was your week, sweetie?” My mom’s warm voice soothes my worry like honey on a sore throat. I relax into the chair and try to forget all about Joe, enjoying my limited time with Mom.
“It was good! Just a lot of late nights studying. How was your week, Mom?”
“Oh, you know.”
I don’t like the way her voice wobbles a bit around the words.
“What’s been going on, Mom?”
“It’s nothing, love. Joe is just having a stressful week, that’s all. Money has been tight, but we’re gonna be fine.”
“Did he hurt you?” I ask anxiously.
“Don’t worry, Cass, it’s just a bit of stress. Anyway, tell me more about what’s going on in your life. Only a month more for your classes, right?”
I don’t know what hits me, but as I listen to the woman who raised me force down her own feelings and pain, I feel the overwhelming desire to tell her the plans I’ve had in place since my freshman year. All of the hard work I’ve done to give her a way out, to strike a match at the end of her tunnel.
“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. I have interviews for a good job already set in place?—”
“I know, baby, you told me about your teacher setting those up! I’m so proud of you. I could never excel the way you have.”
“Thanks, Mom. About that, I was hoping that after I have a secure source of revenue, that is, when I’m able to provide for both of us,” I ramble nervously. “…that you might come live with me.”
