“Remember we canceled all of his cards after he died? They don’t work anymore.”
“How am I supposed to remember that? I always use his card to pay. Always!” More fat tears well in her eyes and she presses a wad of tissues to her mouth.
The puzzle slowly becomes clear in front of me, and while the panic remains hidden in the tremors of my heart, there’s a pulse of relief in my chest that no one is hurt and no one is dead.
“You were the one who canceled the cards, Mom. Not just because he’s gone but because we can’t afford to have reckless spending like that.”
“I know!” Mom snaps suddenly. “Don’t you think I know that?”
I want to tell her she clearly doesn’t, or we wouldn’t be in this situation, but Nick’s sobs are tearing at my heart and all I want to do is get him home. I cuddle him tighter and glare at her. “Ifyou knew that, then you wouldn’t have lied about cutting up the cards, would you?”
She lifts her head and dabs at her tears, staring at me in shock. “How can you say something so cruel!”
“Me?” I cover Nick’s ears the best I can. “How can you be sostupidwhen you’re with my son?”
“Don’t yell at me! I had a panic attack!”
“I know, and trust me, I’m sorry about that, but Mom,please. I need you more on the ball than this when you’re taking care of Nick!”
“Sorry,” Tabitha cuts in. “Not to interrupt, but there’s still the issue with the bill.”
“What?” Both Mom and I look at her in shock. “Are you serious?” I ask, unable to fathom how she can stand there and only care about the cost of the damn groceries. Surely, the fact that she had to call an ambulance tells her how serious this is?
Or how good she is at covering the store’s reputation.
“Whatever,” I cut in as Tabitha opens her mouth. “Show me where and I’ll pay for the groceries.”
“And the yogurt your son ate?”
My eyes narrow and it takes every ounce of self-control I have left not to snap at her. “Yes,” I reply tightly. “And the yogurt. Although next time you call a family member, you should be clearer about what the hell is happening.”
Fuck the damn yogurt.
Nick calms himself by the time I make it to the checkout to pay for the groceries that I would happily leave behind. Unfortunately, we need them and Mom isn’t willing to part with them for some reason, so to save another argument in public, I pay.
Thankfully, they let us keep the groceries in the cart, and Mom happily pushes them toward the exit as if nothing really happened. I pass the young man from earlier and flash him a brief apologetic smile, but he doesn’t look convinced.
I can never shop here again.
Outside, the world is dark and Nick buries against my chest, refusing to be put down, and I don’t have the heart to after all his crying.
“Mom, how did you get here?” I ask as we step out into the brisk wind that instantly removes all the warmth gained from being inside the store.
“Bus,” Mom replies.
“How were you going to get these groceries home?”
“I’d pay for delivery.”
More things we can’t afford. It’s not worth the fight as a wave of exhaustion steals over me. Carrying all this home on the bus with Nick is going to be hell.
“Calliope?”
“Elijah?” He appears beside me, his brow pinched as he gazes over me, my Mom, and Nick in my arms. “What are you still doing here?”
“You were so panicked that it didn’t feel like the right thing to do, just leaving you here. But I didn’t want to interrupt whatever was happening so I just parked and waited in case you needed anything.”
I don’t know what to say. In truth, I barely know this man even though he’s somehow one of the most important people in my life. Most of the friends I have wouldn’t have waited, especially in the cold, but here he is.
