My thumb hovers over the red Decline button to make her Future Santino’s problem. But is there any point in putting this off? I’ve already made my decision. Nothing she says will change it. Might as well get it over with now.
With a quick glance toward Hayden to make sure he’s still asleep, I swipe to accept the call with one hand and grab my discarded underwear with the other.
“Hello?” I say as I slip out of the room and close the door behind me. I hold the phone with my shoulder as I hop into my underwear.
“Tino, where are you?”
Uh… shit. Maybe I should’ve put her off until I came up with a good way to break the news to her. “Um, at a friend’s? Why?”
“Louisa’s in San Francisco today and I gave her some frozen meals to drop off for you. When will you be home?”
I scrunch my face together and stifle a groan. “Um, yeah, about that. I won’t be home today.”
“You’re not? Why not? Where are you?”
I take a deep breath as my stomach clenches with nervousness. Here goes nothing. “I’m in New York.”
The only sound that comes through the line is a commercial for toilet paper from the TV Mom always has on in the background. She’s silent for so long, I hope I didn’t, I don’t know, give her a stroke or something.
“Hello? Mom?”
“You’re where?” she asks and it’s not because she didn’t hear me the first time.
“New York,” I say, quieter this time, voice going up at the end like it’s a question.
“Why?” she demands.
“Um… for a job?” I slap a hand over my face and drop down on the couch.
“What kind of job?”
“Uh…” My mind blanks as I scramble for something plausible to say. Because I sure as hell can’t tell my mother I’m doing porn. “Remember my old roommate, Bellamy? He’s anactor and he’s working on this, uh, documentary. And they asked me to be in it.”
“Why would they askyouto be in it? You’re not an actor.”
She… has a good point. “Uh, well, it’s a documentary, right? So they wanted people who actually know Bellamy.” Which is totally and completely true.
Mom is silent for another second and I hold my breath. I feel like I’m waiting for the planet to explode.
“When are you coming home?”
I don’t bother covering up my groan this time. “Yeah, about that. I’m, um, not.”
“Not what?”
“I’m not coming home.” I really want to tell her about Hayden. About how wonderful he is. About the ways he reminds me of her. About how much I love him. But I’ve already dropped one bombshell on her on this call and I’m not sure she’ll survive two.
“Santino Antonio Baldoni, you get on a plane right this minute and come home. You hear me? Right now. On the next flight. I’m sending Dad to the airport and if you’re not there, so help me god, I will go to New York myself and drag you home.”
I hold my phone away from my ear as Mom shouts. Disappointment courses through me, though I don’t know why. I knew this was how she’d react. Hoping otherwise was always going to end in a letdown. She’ll never get it. She’ll never understand.
“When did you even go to New York? How long have you been there? Have you been lying to me the whole time? I cannot believe you. Of all the selfish, irresponsible, naive things to do. Why do you always have to take such unnecessary risks? Why can’t you just come home?”
My heart rate is shooting through the roof as my body starts to shake with anger. Why did she think I would lie to her?Because I knew she’d overreact! She’d get overprotective and jump to the worst-case scenario.
Her voice gets higher and louder the longer she keeps going. I can hear her getting worked up, her thoughts spinning around and around, amplifying and growing each time. A part of me feels bad—I hate causing her distress. But a bigger part of me wants to shout right back at her.
“Why are you always leaving me? Am I not a good mother? Do you not love me?”
