You know what? I’m counting it as another win.
And just when I’m convinced the universe has exhausted its generosity, I walk into the break room and find a stack of half-off coupons for pizzas at Sam’s favourite place, Slice of Heaven. Tonight, pizza and a movie with my kid. Could life get any better?
By the time I pull Roxanne into the driveway, I’m practically glowing. I hop out, humming “Friday I’m In Love” by The Cure, and skip up the walkway like a woman who just secured her dream job, avoided financial ruin, and is absolutely having pizza for dinner.
Everything is coming up Elliot.
“Sam?” I call as I tug my key free from the lock. The door shuts with a rattle behind me, and I toe off my boots on the mat, leaving them in a damp little heap. I really need to get my doorknob fixed.
“In here!” Sam’s voice carries from the kitchen.
I follow the sound and find him at our worn kitchen table, a graphic novel spread open in his hands. He’s hunched over it, his messy hair sticking up in the back like he’s been running his fingers through it instead of brushing.
I circle around to plop into the chair beside him, ready to spill all about the epic evening I’ve plotted for us when something catches my eye. A duffel bag sits on the floor beside him. His pillow rests on top.
“What’s with the bag?” I ask, lowering into the chair. Itgives a loud, complaining creak because it’s the broken one I’ve superglued within an inch of its life.
“Oh.” He glances down like he forgot it was there. “Rhett wants me to sleep over tonight. He just asked me at school. His mom’s gonna pick me up on her way home from work.”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah.” He hesitates, eyes flicking up to gauge my reaction. “I figured you wouldn’t mind. Is that…not okay?”
The longer I take to answer, the more his green eyes fill with worry. “I can cancel, Mom. I don’t have to go.”
Even though my throat feels tight I force out a laugh, bright and fake. “Don’t be silly. Of course I don’t mind. It just surprised me, that’s all. I had to wrap my brain around it. First slumber party!”
“Sleepover, Mom.”
“Right. First sleepover.” I nudge his shoulder with mine. “This is exciting.”
He shrugs like it is the farthest thing from exciting. “Sure. I guess.”
“Do you have everything you need?”
Sam gives his duffel another glance. “Pajama pants, change of clothes for tomorrow, pillow, toothbrush.”
I swallow hard. “Sounds like you’re all set.”
His gaze flicks to the stove clock. “Rhett’s mom should be here any minute.” He pushes back his chair, the legs scraping against the floor, and grabs his things.
“So soon?” I hear the thin thread of panic in my voice and hope he doesn’t.
“Yeah. She’s off at five.” He’s already halfway down the hall, duffel in hand, and I trail after him like a puppy who knows their human is going on vacation and not bringing them.
I watch him pull on his winter coat and boots. He looks older than I’ve ever seen him, impossibly so. For one terrifyingsecond, I swear I see a shadow of a goatee sprouting on his chin. He’s aging right in front of me, slipping through my fingers.
“If you decide that you don’t want to stay, just call and I’ll come get you.”
Sam looks up from the buttons on his coat, the look of confusion back in his eyes. “Why would I decide not to stay?”
Their house could smell funny. Maybe Rhett’s mom is making mustard pickles and the whole place will reek of vinegar and spices. Or maybe they have a cat. Or multiple cats. And Sam suddenly finds himself allergic, though they’ve never bothered him before.
Maybe Rhett’s dad is a member of an experimental jazz band that practises at their house until all hours of the night.
It could happen.
“No reason.” I laugh, waving my hand like I’m being silly, though I’m feeling anything but. I feel desperate. “Just know you can always come home.”
