“Yeah…”
“Jamie… your father didn’t do what he did because he was an alpha. He did it because he was a very damaged person.And he made excuses because he was an asshole. But it doesn’t have to be that way anymore. I was listening to this other podcast—”
“Please no more childhood trauma content,” I groan.
“Asciencepodcast,” Mom cuts in, with a little edge of smugness in her voice.
“Oh?” I blink.
“That company in the city, Artemis Pharmaceuticals? Apparently, they recently released another round of data from a long-term study. The results are good. Really good. Minimal side effects. You could enjoy the city, for real. Breathe the air. Walk the streets. All that.”
I chew my lip. “This is rich coming from me, but… isn’t it a bit… unnatural? I just worry…” I can’t quite place it. But it’s a complete sentence anyway. ‘I just worry’ is practically my middle name.
Mom snorts, and it startles me a little. “If I can take birth control for twenty years, I think you can at leasttrya heat suppressant.”
I huff a laugh, realizing how stupid I’m being. “Touché.”
“And…” Mom says, teasing, taking agiantbite of chicken so that I’ll have to wait for her to chew.
I don’t let my impatience show.
“They’rehiring.”
“They are?” I breathe. Mom knows I’ve been following Artemis for ages, knows they were top of my dream job list, knows that I’d just been invited for in-person interviews a year ago when I cancelled everything to come take care of her. “It can’t be for my field, though, I’m sure—”
But Mom slides her phone across the table to me, job posting already pulled up, scrolled to the part of the page that details myexactqualifications.
I chew my lip again. Bad habit. “But the gap on myresume will look bad…”
“Just explain in your cover letter.”
I look up at her, eyes narrowing. “Since when doyouknow about cover letters?” Mom’s always worked in hospitality. She’d just been promoted to senior manager of the one hotel in town when she broke her foot and had to go on leave. But then I put two and two together and roll my eyes playfully. “No, wait, don’t tell me…”
“Podcast,” Mom croons with delight.
“I created a monster,” I sigh, propping my head up on my arm.
“So…” Mom wiggles her eyebrows. “How about after dinner we put on some Home Wreck Fixer, you work on updating your resume, and I’ll start looking at apartments for you?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I be looking for my own apartment? Self-discovery and all that?”
“You’re not ready for that,” Mom says seriously, sagely. “You’ll pick something too cheap, too utilitarian. With far too long a commute.”
I hesitate. Do the math. City apartments require a lot of money upfront—first month, last month, security deposit. Not to mention furniture. It’s all my college friends have been able to talk about lately when we catch up over video games.
I didn’t plan on moving too far, so most of the money from my modest QA salary is spoken for. Nearly half goes into maxing out my 401k. I didn’t expect to need it so soon.
But then a wave of relief washes over me. It’ll take me time to save up. I can adjust the 401k, maybe reduce my tax withholding. So, still a few more months without any big changes. That’s better. Gives me time to psych myself up.
“It’s gonna take me a while to save up,” I say, trying not to let my voice show how relieved I am.
“I know,” Mom quips. “That’s why I’m giving you a loan.”
“A what?” I say, panic rising again.
“You’ll pay me back in no time flat with your fancy big-city salary,” she teases.
“I’m not sure that’s…”
