Chapter Fourteen
Happiness is having a large, loving, caring, close-knit family in another city.
~ George Burns
It’s been weeks since I’ve spoken to my mother. I let her call to me on my birthday go to voicemail, for fear of saying something I meant. Later that night, I texted a lame excuse that my cell phone battery had died and thanks for the message. We haven’t really spoken since I ‘up and moved to Canada’ instead of coming home so she could bake cookies for me and pretend she’s sorry Isaac died. This isn’t the longest we’ve gone without speaking. Our first cold war took place when I told them I was madly in love and was about to move in with a much older man. The second was right after Isaac’s death. My parents assumed I’d return to Portland with them and went as far as making arrangements while I was still picking out photos for his memorial. They were shocked when I told them I wasn’t coming home. An ugly scene took place in the lobby of my building when we returned from the service. I screamed that there was no way I could live with them while I grieved for a man they both hated. It wasn’t entirely fair, but it wasn’t entirely wrong either. But today I have to make peace. It is my mother’s sixty-fifth birthday, and if I don’t call, it would be the equivalent of unlocking the case on the red button.
And I really should do it now while I have some privacy. Although things have been going smoothly since the dreaded day of the greenhouse, Colton isn’t coming by to work on the yard for the rest of the week. He texted late last night to say he was super sorry (how Canadian), but ‘something important came up that he has to deal with.’ He must have forgotten he told me the new season of Fortnite comes out today, and they were going to ‘destroy the map’ and create a whole new one. Whatever the hell that means. Liam is upstairs laying the tile for my bathroom floor, so I should just get this call over with before I have any witnesses.
I sit down on one of my new black wooden kitchen chairs and dial her number. When her phone starts ringing, I take a deep breath, telling myself to be patient and let things slide, no matter what she says.
“Hello?”
I muster as much enthusiasm as I can. “Hi, Mom, happy birthday!”
“Oh, Abigail. I was wondering if you’d remember.”
Here we go. First shot across the bow. “Of course I’d remember your birthday. Did you get the flowers?”
“Yes, they’re lovely. Thank you.”
“Good. I’m glad you like them. How are you?”
“All right. I’ve been getting migraines again, and the doctor doesn’t seem to know why they’re coming on so frequently. Your father said it’s stress-related. He’s probably right.”
Stress caused by their only daughter moving so far away, no doubt. “That doesn’t sound good. Has he referred you to a specialist?”
“No. He wanted to, but I told him not to bother. I’m sure it’s just because I worry so much.”
I suppress a sigh. “What are you worried about?”
“Oh, you know, lots of things. Mothers worry. That’s just what we do from the moment we find out we’re going to be blessed with a child. The worrying starts, and it doesn’t stop until we die.”
Neither does the guilt trip. “Is something wrong with Chad? Because I’m fine. Really.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your brother. He’s here where we can help if he needs us.”
It’s her birthday. It’s her birthday. “I know it’s hard for you to have me so far away.”
“I don’t think you can possibly know what it’s like to have one of your children...” She stops herself. “It’s just hard not knowing where your daughter lives.”
“You and Dad should come see for yourselves. The house isn’t quite ready for guests, but there’s a lovely bed and breakfast next door.”
“Oh no, there’s no way we can get away. Who would watch the dogs for us? Plus, we need to be here for Grandma.”
“Well, you could kennel the dogs and Uncle Jay can check in on Grandma for a couple of weeks, can’t he?”
“No. He’s completely useless. He’d say he’ll look after her, but there’s just too much he doesn’t know. What if she ran out of one of her meds?”
“I’m sure you can refill them before you leave. Besides, she’s doing well, isn’t she?”
“Compared to other people her age, maybe. But honestly, Abigail, anything could happen.” She gives an audible sigh that sounds almost like a moan. “You should really come and see her before it’s too late.”
Oh wow, she’s really going for it today. “You’re right. I should.”
“Are you doing okay there?”
“I’m all right. Better than I was doing in New York. It’s hard, though. Everything new is something I wish Isaac could experience.”
