“How do you guys live without caller ID?” I ask. “I could be one of those identity theft scammers. I could be calling to make you go out and buy thousands of dollars in gift cards to send to my alleged captors.”
“But you’re you,” my dad replies. “Please,” he whispers. “Tell your mother it’s normal to pay the landscapers in cash. She thinks they are overcharging us.”
“How much are they charging?”
“$25.”
“To cut the grass?”
“Yes.”
“That’s nothing,” I say.
“I know! So, you tell her,” he whispers. “Here, Emina! Gracie called for you.”
“Love you, Daddy.”
“Ti amo, Grape Juice. Here’s Mom.”
My mother takes the phone from my dad. This is the phone still connected to the wall by an actual cord in their kitchen. I’m sure of itbecause it’s the only landline phone in the house. I don’t know how they got the phone company to install such an obsolete contraption, but it’s my mother’s favorite thing in the house. She hates all technology, including the Internet. Her idea of social media is sitting in the breakfast nook with the cord stretched across the room, as if this is a publicly acceptable thing to do in this day and age.
“Hi, Gracie. I called you,” she begins.
“Yes, I know. That’s why I’m calling you back,” I say. “How are you?”
“Another week, you know. We’re fine. I walk in the driveway. It’s nice to get out,” she says.
“Another week…meaning…”
“We’re still alive!” Mom says.
“Ah, yes, of course. Well, that’s great news, Mom.”
“I’m telling you, ever since they planted that bat flu in America, I just watch the news and wait for the next major pandemic.”
“But not this week,” I remind her.
“That’s right. This week, I have bigger problems to deal with.”
“Oh?”
She sighs, lowering her voice. “It’s the gardeners.”
“Ah. You know, it’s totally fine for them to get paid in cash.”
“Daddy says the same thing! But it feels wrong to me.”
“Then, maybe get new gardeners.”
“I may have no choice. I can’t be complicit.”
“Of course,” I say, silently shaking my head. “What else is new, Mom?”
“Nothing, honey. Nothing at all.”
“What do you mean, you walk in the driveway?” I ask.
“Oh, you know. For exercise.”
