You up, girl?
I hesitate, thumb hovering, then type back:
Me
Yeah.Everything ok?
The reply comes fast.
Mom
Need a favor.Can u loan me some cash?
My stomach tightens.Of course.
It’s always a favor.Always temporary.Always some “emergency” that mysteriously turns into a blackjack table, or a new boyfriend,or both.
I sigh, pinch the bridge of my nose, and try to be the kind of daughter she can’t accuse of being heartless.
Me
I’m between jobs right now, Mom.I can send you $100, but that’s it.
I barely hit send before the phone starts ringing.
Of course it does.
I debate letting it go to voicemail, but that’s the kind of guilt that eats at me, so I answer.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Well, it’s about damn time,” she slurs, voice sharp with that familiar rasp that tells me she’s smoking again.“You too busy playing house to pick up for your mother now?”
I close my eyes.“I said I’d send a hundred.That’s all I can do.”
“A hundred?Jesus, Bit.You think that does anything?”she snaps.“What are you doing with your money, huh?You living rent-free with your cousin, right?”
“No, I’m not with Kristie, Mom?—”
“I see.Got yourself a new man, then.Don’t lie to me.You’ve always been too trusting.Probably already let him move you in, tell you he loves you, and now you’re what?Playing little housewife?”She laughs then—a sharp, bitter sound that cuts deep.“Guess the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, huh?”
The words hit like a slap.I grip the phone tighter.
“That’s not true, Mom.Sawyer is different.He’s—he’s special.”
“Yeah, Honey,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm.“They’re all special.Till they’re not.Be smart and get what you can while you’re still young, because when you’re my age, no one gives a damn aboutspecial.”
“Mom—”
“Look, do what you want with your life, but send me that hundred quick.I gotta go,” she snaps before hanging up.
The line goes dead.
I stare at my reflection in the black screen, throat tight, eyes stinging.
For a long moment, I just sit there, letting the silence swallow the room again.The crickets outside, the soft hum of the fridge, the faint creak of the house—all of it feels too loud now.
The excitement that had me glowing minutes ago dims to embers.
