Play (Stage Dive, #2)(44)

The tension lines around his mouth eased. “You did.”

“Yes. I’m sorry. You just kind of overwhelmed me and … anyway, you’re the best.”

He pumped his fists into the air. “I knew it! I’m the best.”

“You are.”

A simple statement of fact, but it lit up his eyes just the same. “Thanks, pumpkin.”

His smile … I had no words.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN


We called Mom from my bedroom, perched on the edge of my downed mattress. Mal was busy watching TV in the living room, a cup of coffee in hand.

I nodded and Lizzy took out her cell, selected the contact, and set the phone to speaker. Then she held it between us. My skin prickled. The air seemed cold and hot all at once. Fuck, I hated this. I hated it with a passion. But in my head, Mom was so closely entwined with anger and frustration I couldn’t separate her from the emotions. One day, it wouldn’t be this way.

“Hi, Mom,” said Lizzy, sounding cheery as sunshine in a bottle. She’d forgiven Mom already. I was still getting there.

“Hi, girls. How are you?” Just the sound of her voice brought it all back. Sitting in the dark with her, begging and pleading with her to eat just another spoonful, to get out of bed and have a shower maybe, act like a human being. To start being an adult and look after her daughters so I could go back to being a kid.

“We’re great, Mom,” I said, doing my best to sound normal. “How are you?”

“Good. Work’s been fine.”

I nodded like she could see me, relieved she was holding down a job still, being responsible for her own finances. That was good. For years I’d made do with the remains of the savings account, then whatever Dad saw fit to send.

“School’s going well.” Lizzy swapped her cell over to her other hand, talking on about college all the while. Then she put her arm around me and started rubbing my back. A sweet gesture, but honestly, being touched right then didn’t help.

My sister excelled at these conversations. She could babble on for a good ten minutes. And really, ten minutes was a long enough time frame for a weekly call home, right?

“What about you, Anne?” she asked once Lizzy had exhausted herself.

“I’m fine.”

“Anne is seeing someone,” Lizzy supplied.

I shot her a glance. “It’s not that serious.”

“He’s really great, Mom. He’s so into her, you can just see it in his eyes.”

“Oh,” said Mom, followed by a moment’s silence. “You’re being careful, aren’t you, Anne?”

It could mean so many things, but I knew exactly what my mother was saying. Had I not forgotten men were the sworn enemy? Why, look how our dad had just up and left us! Funny, men being evil wasn’t the lesson I’d taken away from my teenage years, no matter what Mom might have intended.

“Yes, mom.” I tucked my newly styled hair behind my ears, sat up straighter. “Everything’s fine.”

Mom let out a little sigh. “Good. I wouldn’t want–”

“He’s actually waiting to take us to breakfast, Mom. So we better go.”

“Alright, I wanted to ask if you girls would like to come home for Thanksgiving, maybe?” Her voice sounded hopeful, pleading. “It would be lovely to see you both.”

“Thanksgiving?” Lizzy asked, like she’d never heard of the occasion. “We’ll think about it … sure.”

Like hell.

“I don’t think I can get the time off work, Mom,” I said. “Sorry.”

Mom made a sad little noise and the heart I’d hardened toward her a long time ago paused. There was a twinge of guilt, but not enough to make me go back. Never even remotely enough for that. I had my own life now.

“But, Anne, you never take time off,” she said. “It can’t be good for you.”

“Reece depends on me, Mom.”

“Surely you’re entitled to some holidays. Are you certain he’s not taking advantage of you?”

I just stared at the phone.

“Oh, crap, Mom,” said Lizzy. “My cell’s about to die. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re always forgetting to plug it in.”

“I know. Look, we love you. Great to talk to you. We’ll talk again next week.”

“Alright, girls. Take care.”

“Bye,” cried Lizzy, carrying the show.

I mouthed the word. It was honestly the most I could manage. Thank f*ck, we’d made it through another week.

Lizzy ended the call, her hand rubbing up and down my back somewhat frantically. Like I needed nurturing. I’m the one who sat her down and explained what a period was. Oh, and sex too. I’d looked over her homework, making sure she got assignments done on time. I could keep my shit together. So I hadn’t quite moved on yet from this issue I had with Mom. I’d get there.

“We’re not going home,” she said.

“Not a chance.” I crawled back up onto my feet, smoothed down the gray sweater dress and straightened my tights. I opened the bedroom door. Mal sat on the wingback, staring at the TV.

“Hey, you good to go?” he asked.

“Yeah. All done.”