“They’re okay?”
“Yes, they’re fine. A little distraught but they’re fine.”
“Then why the hell would someone call me and tell me there’s been an accident and I need to urgently rush down here? Are you fuck?—”
“Mommy!” As the door to the office pushes open, Nick flies out at the speed of a bullet and crashes into my legs. I swallow down my curse, preferring instead to glare at Tabitha’s back for a split second, then I duck and scoop Nick up into my arms.
He immediately bursts into tears.
“Baby! It’s okay! I’m here, I’m right here. It’s okay!”
Nick wails and wails, grabbing onto my hair with one small fist while burying his face in my chest. Tabitha ushers me inside, her face strained, clearly not wanting a crying child to disturb the other shoppers. I’m half tempted to remain outside.
In the office, Mom sits on a threadbare couch with her face buried in her hands and several clumped tissues littering her lap and the cushion beside her.
“Mom! Are you okay? What happened?”
Mom doesn’t speak, she simply sobs into her trembling hands. I grit my teeth and spin to face Tabitha, who puts her bare desk between her and me.
“Will someone tell me what the hell is going on?”
Tabitha winces faintly. “Your mother’s card declined.”
My heart stalls faintly in my chest. “What?”
“At the checkout, her card declined, and she was unable to complete the transaction. As your son here had already eaten a pot of yogurt on the trip around the store, we asked for another form of payment, but she didn’t have any. It sent her into a panic attack, so we brought her here.”
“A panic attack? Mom!” Balancing sobbing Nick on my hip, I reach for Mom with one hand. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“We called an ambulance,” Tabitha continues. “We wanted to ensure that your mother was taken care of, first of all. When she was given the all clear, she asked for you and we called.”
A panic attack.
“All this over a pot of yogurt?” My eyes narrow at Tabitha who remains peacefully composed, then I sink down onto the couch next to Mom.
“What happened? Mom, please talk to me.”
“It’s so humiliating,” Mom gasps through her fingers. “I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life. I just wanted to pay for the groceries and make you a nice dinner when you came home.”
“I know, Mom. That doesn’t matter. Are you feeling okay?”
She nods quickly and wipes at her eyes. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. All this fuss. I was just upset.”
“Grandma couldn’t breathe,” Nick wails in my ear. “I w–was so scaaared!” His words dissolve into another round of sobs, so I clutch him tightly to my chest.
“There should be money in your account. What happened?” I ask, ignoring the voice in the back of my head that suggests she’s spent every last cent of her savings on a decorator.
“I don’t know,” Mom gasps. “Everything should be working fine.”
“This was the card.” Tabitha removes a credit card from her drawer and offers it to me.
I take it after I stand and turn it over, reading the name on the back as my stomach tightens into a knot. “Mom. This is Dad’s card.”
“So?”
