"No, it's not work." I glance toward the hallway. "Just... someone being annoying."
"A boy?"
"Mom."
"What? I'm just asking. You never tell me anything about your social life."
"There's nothing to tell."
"That's what worries me, sweetheart. You're young. You should be out there meeting people. Having fun."
I look at the text again.I miss your curses.
A smile tugs at my mouth. I hate that it does.
"I meet plenty of people," I say. "I work with kids all day."
"That's not the same thing and you know it."
"Mom."
"Fine, fine. I'll drop it." She sighs dramatically. "But Linda's daughter just got engaged. Did I tell you that? To a very nice accountant. They met at a coffee shop."
"You told me."
"I'm just saying. Coffee shops. You drink coffee."
"Goodbye, Mom."
"I love you, sweetheart. Call me tomorrow?"
"I will. Love you too."
I hang up and stare at my phone.
The text is still there. Waiting.
I should ignore it. I should put my phone down and go to sleep and pretend the last twenty-four hours didn't happen.
Instead, I type back:You're supposed to be resting.
Three dots appear immediately. He's typing.
Hard to rest when I can hear you pacing.
I wasn't pacing. I was sitting perfectly still on my couch.
I'm not pacing.
Your floorboards creak.
I look down at the floor. Old hardwood. The kind that announces every movement.
Maybe you should focus on not dying instead of listening to my floors.
Multitasking.
I shake my head.
