The constant vibration from my phone next to me tells me it’s ticked over to midnight.
I’m officially thirty.
Fantastic.
I can already guess who’s calling without looking at the screen, so I don’t bother. Sitting up, I turn the volume down on the television and accept the call from my mom.
“Mom, hey.” Clearing my throat, I realize those two words are the first words I’ve spoken since I got home from work this afternoon. I’ve avoided conversations at work unless they were absolutely essential.
"Hi, honey. Happy birthday,” she says with a bright, but soft, voice. She doesn’t ever miss a midnight birthday call. She’s as cheerful as she is every year, always the first to remind me I’m another year older.
I’ve never really missed home. That is, until recently. I think part of it is because my mom has done everything in her power to convince me to come back, but there just isn’t a lot that Grangewood Creek has to offer me.
My life is here.
My work is here.
I have so many brides depending on me to turn their dream wedding into a reality. I can’t just leave them at the most exciting and stressful time of their life. But, as each agonizing day passes, the more tempted I am to say"fuck it"and load up a truck with all my belongings and never look back.
Go home, to where my life began, and start again.
"Did I wake you?" she asks, noting my croaky voice, and I clear my throat uncomfortably.
"No, I’m just watchingFriends," I respond as I throw a blanket over my bare legs. Roxanne Herring has never appreciated my love for this show. She would much prefer me watch something that sets realistic expectations for how life should be, but considering the very first episode shows Rachel’s long-term relationship come to an end, I think it’s pretty fitting.
Only, I don’t burst through the cafe doors in my wedding dress.
"I hoped you’d be out celebrating." I can hear a hint of something in her voice that I can’t quite pinpoint. Sadness is my guess, and going by the sniffle she tries to hide, she all but confirms that I’m right.
"Come on, Mom. Don’t do that." She always feels the things my sisters and I do. Sometimes, even deeper. I’m not surprised that my breakup with Austin is hitting her hard, too, but that doesn’t mean I need to be guilted or made to feel worse for something out of my control. If it were up to me, he and I would be planningourwedding, riding off into the sunset, living happily ever after.
But it’s not up to me.
I just wish everyone would let me heal in my own way.
"I’m sorry, honey. I really hate knowing you’re all alone while you’re going through such a hard time." She sniffles again, but it sounds clearer this time.
“Jenna’s trying to convince me to go out. I’m not up for it, though." I shrug, even though she can’t see me.
"You should consider it. Getting out of the house might do you some good. Hang out with your friends."
"I am with friends, Mom," I joke, but not even a hint of a smile appears on my face.
"Friends that aren’t on a television screen,Cassandra," she says, matching my sarcasm out of spite, and we both know it’s time to end the call here. "Go get some sleep. And please, will you think about coming home? Even just for a few days. I think you need a change of scenery," she says. Her voice is soft. I can tell she doesn’t want to pester me, but she definitely feels that she knows best.
Obviously.
"I will, thanks Mom. Love you."
"Love you too." Taking my phone away from my ear, I check my notifications, but there’s nothing from him, and disappointment crashes over me, knocking down any wall I’d temporarily built.
He beat my mom to it once in the last fourteen years, and he reminded her of it the whole day.
"I beat you, Roxy. Fair and square. Get used to it."
He bragged about it so much. Mom would roll her eyes and smirk at me as she nudged my shoulder with hers but that was the first and the last time.
My phone pings multiple times in a row, and I see my younger twin sisters’ names light up the screen.
