I close my eyes and wonder if her son misses his mom. I never really knew mine, but I think I’ve missed her everyday since she left me, despite hating her for doing it. It’s an indescribable loneliness, a lack of belonging.
“If she’s still alive,” Callie whispers, “I promise she’s missing you.”
She.
Is “she” my mom? If so, Callie is reading my mind.
Friday night, I deliver food for two hours and grab a pizza on my way back to the Rawlings’. Nobody’s in the kitchen, so I sit at the island and eat my pizza with my phone propped up against a glass of water. There’s a new video of June that pops up in my feed. It’s from last night. It’s been two weeks since we messaged. She didn’t mention performing, but if this new video of her with the LA Philharmonic is old, then someone just decided to upload it, or it’s happened recently.
The title of the video is “Zoya Malone—flawless as ever!” The description says she was a special guest, and the song title is “Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major.” Her hair is down in long waves, like it was in the photo at the Minnesota Orchestra Hall. High black heels, sexy and elegant. And she’s wearing a strapless red dress with a wide skirt, probably to accommodate the cello between her legs. After the performance, she receives a standing ovation and takes a slow bow. The footage isn’t up close, so I can’t see her expression, but after the video ends, I watch it again … and again.
When I can’t sleep, because every note of the song plays on repeat in my head, I roll over and grab my phone.
Flynn: Found out today that Mr. R writes novels. Should I revisit the kazoo as a hobby?
I don’t know if it’s a two- or three-hour time difference, but maybe she’s already asleep. Or maybe she’s in some other part of the world, playing her cello. Is the family emergency over?
My screen illuminates with a reply. It’s just three blushing emojis with the hand over the mouth.
June: Immediately searching up Rupert Rawlings on Amazon
Flynn: He goes by R. Rawlings. Thrillers
June: How many? Have u read any of them yet?
Flynn: I’m dyslexic
June: Audiobook
I roll my eyesandreply with the eye-roll emoji.
June: Omg! He’s written 8 books. I’m starting one tonight
Flynn: lmk what u think
June: We could buddy read/listen and discuss every few chapters
Flynn: Or u could give me a summary and I can act like I read it
She doesn’t reply. No little dots or anything.
Flynn: were u sleeping?
Nothing.
Flynn: Cool. Good chat
Still nothing, not even to my sarcastic reply.
I set my phone aside and wait for her to reply or sleep to take me.
The next morning, I see a missed text, but she sent it at 4:00 a.m. my time.
June: Sorry. I had to get back to practicing
I type a reply:Nbd. What are you practicing for?
But I erase it before sending it.
