“I know. I’m still going to say it.”
I smile. “Okay.”
“Drive safe,” Marcy adds.
“I’m walking.”
“Then walk safe.”
“Yes, mom.”
She rolls her eyes but smiles anyway.
I push the door open and step out into the cold, the night air hitting my face sharp and clean after the warmth of the salon. It’s fully dark now, the sky that deep winter blue that almost looks black, streetlights casting soft pools of yellow along the sidewalk.
The door closes behind me with a quiet click. For a second, I just stand there, adjusting to the shift. Inside is noise and light and people. Out here is…still. Not empty. Just quieter.
I pull my coat tighter around me and start down the sidewalk, my boots crunching lightly against the thin layer of frost that’s settled over everything. My breath comes out in small clouds in front of me, disappearing almost as soon as I see them. I fish my phone out of my pocket as I walk, pulling up my mom’s contact and hitting call.
She answers on the second ring. “Hi, sweetheart.”
“Hi,” I say, smiling without thinking about it. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No, your father just finished telling me about his day for the third time, so you’re actually saving me.”
I laugh softly. “You’re welcome, and tell him I said hi.”
“I will not do that. He’ll just start over.”
“That’s fair.”
“How was work?”
“Good,” I say, stepping off the curb and crossing the street. “Busy, but good. I had this woman today who just moved here and…”
And I tell her. About the woman, about Tessa’s commentary, about Marcy threatening to lock us in overnight. I don’t think about what I’m saying as much as I think about how it feels to say it. Easy. Familiar.
My mom listens the way she always does, making small sounds in the right places, asking questions that show she’s actually paying attention instead of just waiting for her turn to talk. It’s something I’ve always loved about her. “So you’re going out Friday?” she asks when I finish.
“Apparently.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“It could be,” I say. “Or it could be a disaster. There’s really no in between with Tessa’s plans.”
“Just be careful,” she says, not worried exactly, but not not worried either.
“I always am.”
“I know you are.” There’s a pause, comfortable, not heavy. “Did you talk to your sister today?” she asks.
“Not yet. I was going to call her tomorrow.”
“She got the job.”
I stop walking for a second, my smile widening. “She did?”
“She did.”
