“Everything okay?” Camila asks, pushing the focus away from herself.
“What? Yes, why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know, Mom. You don’t usually call at this time. I thought it was an emergency.”
There’s a beat of silence. Then, a cool and offended, “Well, can’t a mother just call?”
Camila presses her lips together. “Of course you can,” she says, choosing not to stoke the argument her mother is clearly ready to start.
There’s a small huff on the other end, the sound her mother makes when she’s decided to be wounded. “I was thinking about you. Is that a crime now?”
“No.” Camila adjusts the throw blanket over her legs.
“Well, good,” her mother says, voice smoothing out. “Because you’ve been back in Washington for two and a half months now and have yet to come visit.”
Camila’s stomachtightens.
“I’ve been busy,” she says. “Work’s been a lot, and I’m still unpacking.”
There’s a pause and then a pointed, “I am your mother, Camila. I’d hate to think you’re avoiding me. Especially after the beautiful house your father and I bought for you.”
Camila looks around, takes in the walls, the rooms—a gift with a receipt attached. The words settle in her chest, rearranging the air. She stares at the floor, at nothing, already paying the cost.
She exhales. “I’ll come next Sunday,” Camila promises, not quite ready to commit to seeing her mother in a couple of days.
“Good,” her mother says immediately, “I’m glad to hear it. There’s a lot I need to discuss with you and would much rather do it in person.”
Camila’s stomach tightens. Conversations with her mother have never been easy, and she isn’t expecting that to change. “Okay,” she says, already reaching for the end. “I’ll see you then.”
“Sunday,” her mother repeats, satisfied. “At noon. Don’t be late.”
“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”
She ends the call before anything else can be added.
The phone goes silent in her hand. Camila stays where she is, breathing through the knot in her stomach. She wishes her mother’s voice didn’t leave her feeling untethered, like she’s stepped half out of herself. Their relationship has never been easy. There were always expectations she couldn’t quite meet, and love that only showed up when she did, which she hasn’t in a while.
She’d almost convinced herself the house was proof that her mother was trying. An expensive olive branch, ifnothing else. Turns out it was just another way for her mother to manipulate her.
Camila glances at the screen, and the time blinks back at her.
Shit. It’s 5 p.m.She was supposed to leave fifteen minutes ago.
Panic propels her into the bathroom. In the mirror, she takes a quick look at herself. She’s still in her usual work armor: a faded band shirt, cargo pants, and an oversized jacket thrown over. It’ll have to do; she doesn’t have time to change. Her hair, mercifully, looks perfect—thanks to her brand-new wolf cut, which somehow thrives on chaos, refusing to look messy no matter what. Still, she grabs some pomade and mixes it in to keep it from going flat, reapplies deodorant, and sprays on her favorite cologne.
She runs into the kitchen and quickly feeds Miso, then kisses her on the head before speeding to the wine fridge to grab a bottle—she can’t show up empty-handed.
“I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” Camila shouts to Miso before closing the door behind her.
The drive to Ella’s is similar to the one she took this morning. Her mind immediately drifts to Valeria, to whether she lives somewhere around here, and if that’s how she found the coffee shop.
It’s been happening more often lately, these stray thoughts drifting into her mind. She catches herself wondering who Valeria is outside the vet clinic, what she does when she’s not chasing down new coffee spots, what her life looks like on a day-to-day basis. She wonders about a lot of things, really. There’s this persistent pull to know her better.
It’s unfamiliar territory for Camila, and a little unsettling to realize she sort of misses someone she barely knows.
Parking is easy. She finds a spot right in front, but she lingers in the car, fingers tight around the keys.You wanted to be here, she reminds herself.This is good for you. You need to make friends here.She exhales, steps out of the car, and knocks.
A voice calls from inside, letting her know they’re coming. A woman she doesn’t recognize opens the door.
