How very indispensable, indeed.
“Mom ...” It was hard to find the words, much less push them out over the lump in my throat.
She took a sip of her water and looked at the news on her iPad, seemingly oblivious to the trouble I was having.
“Mom ...” I tried again. The words “I’m” and “sorry” were almost out when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!”
I hopped up from the table, both relieved and disappointed in myself for being relieved. I opened the door wide to a very tall, muscular white man with a buzz cut.
“Are you Vivian Quackenbush?” he asked.
“Uh, yes.”
He handed me a manila envelope. “Well, you’ve been served.”
He turned and walked away before I could respond. I stood there gaping like a fool, the envelope dangling from my hand, until Lucky raced outside.
And to think I didn’t think it could possibly get worse than the folder I found in Mitch’s sock drawer. Or the one from Abi that contained the photos of Mitch and Tabitha in flagrante delicto.
I tossed the envelope to the floor and raced after the cat.
“Vivian?” Mom called once I’d returned with my snuggly escape artist.
I made sure the door had closed properly, then picked up the envelope and walked back to the kitchen as if in a daze. All my previous euphoria dissipated. “Mom, I’ve been served.”
“Shit.”
“Mom?” I giggled a little because she wasn’t much of a curser, that one night so long ago notwithstanding.
“Ah, I’d hoped we could serve him first.”
“Does it matter?”
“Eh, not really. Maybe?”
I gulped.
“It’ll be okay. I’ll walk you through it,” Mom said as she drew me into another one of her Chanel No.5 hugs.
I still held the envelope of papers awkwardly at my side.
“Come on and finish your lunch,” she said when she let me go.
I sat down, but the beef stew I’d been so excited about earlier now tasted bland, more vegetable than beef. I’d found the massive dip in my emotional roller coaster, only I was stuck there and not going back up.
That afternoon, I decided to spend some quality time sitting on the couch and staring into space. I told myself to check up on theapplications I’d sent in, to maybe tweak my résumé or apply for more jobs, but the wall was so very interesting.
When the doorbell rang this time, I didn’t even flinch. After getting served, I didn’t see the need to answer the door anymore. Logically, I knew I couldn’t be served twice, but I wasn’t living in an entirely logical world at the moment.
“I’ll get it,” Mom said from the dining room, where she was doing something on her laptop.
“Hello,” she said in that tone of voice she reserved for children and animals. “She sure is here! Come on in.”
I looked to my left and saw ... Suja.
“Oh, hey, Suja,” I said with a smile so forced my muscles ached.
“Miss Viv, Mom told me not to bother you, but could you still help me?”
