The Music of What Happens(56)

Mom is going to be so proud! And yeah. Maybe I’m growing up this summer, but there’s nothing quite like a proud look on Mom’s face, and I guess also I hope it’ll raise her spirits.

She’s not in the TV room. There, next to her cell phone, are a few Twinkie wrappers on the kitchen island, a plate with sandwich crumbs, and a still-open bottle of mayonnaise. I run to her bedroom. The door isn’t closed so I know she’s not asleep.

But also she’s not there.

Which is weird. I wander the house, wondering where in the hell she could be. I don’t remember the last time she was out this late. Without her phone too. I peer out the front window. Her car is gone. I hadn’t noticed coming in.

I sit on the couch and text Kayla and Pam.

Me: So Max and I fed homeless people at Tempe Town Lake!

Kayla: Aww Jordan Teresa

Pam: You need like a sari

Me: You are. We like made over a thousand bucks today and we celebrated and then it was like we need to do something for someone else so we went and handed out food

Kayla: Your medal arrives tomorrow sweetie

Pam: And your sari

Me: Haha my boyfriend and I are better people than you

Pam: Have you even done the nasty yet

Me: Not yet

Pam: Not yr boyfriend, doll. Kissing is like whatever. If yr not doing it? Nah.

Kayla: Gotta rule with Pam on this one. Not yr boyfriend. Sorry sweetie

Pam: Friend zone

Me: Thnks vry supportive

Kayla: Just keepin it real

I put the phone down. Fifteen minutes ago I felt as good as I’d ever felt. Now I feel like crap.

I text Max.

Me: My mom’s not home

Max: Is that weird?

Me: Yeah a little

Max: You worried?

Me: Yah

Max: Want me to come over?

Me: Nah but thanks. I’ll let you know. Had so much fun with you today

Max: <big smile>

Me: <me too>

Max: <smooch>

Me: Pam and Kayla said you’re not my boyfriend and we’re in the friend zone because we only kiss

Max: Sigh … fuck them. I am your boyfriend. And stop telling them our business

I squeak. Literally. Dorcas, lying at my feet, tilts her head like, Huh? I mouth the word “boyfriend” to her and she yawns. Clearly she does not understand the nuance of this momentous occasion. I have a boyfriend! When my fingers stop shaking, I go back to texting, making sure to keep it casual.

Me: I always tell them everything. Are Betts and Zay-Rod mean to you?

Max: Yeah but it’s just trash talk

Me: I guess so but it was kinda like, why?

Max: I hear ya. Get some sleep, k?

Me: Nah gonna wait up for my mom.

Max: Text me when she gets there. Or if you need me. K?

Me: K. Thanks

I watch some Kimmy Schmidt and then some 30 Rock, which is a way underrated comedy. I’m about to drift off to sleep when I hear the front door creak open and Dorcas scramble her paws against the tile as she runs to greet whoever it is.

My mom lopes into the TV room and drops her car keys in the plate where we put keys and loose change. She looks as tired as I feel. “Hey, you’re still up,” she says.

I sit up. “Hey. Where were you?” I say.

She pauses dramatically. “Oh my God,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Worst meeting ever.”

Of course! I forgot about her Wednesday night Gamblers Anonymous meeting. I give her a sleepy laugh because I’ve heard the stories. The way that some people will talk for like twenty minutes because they refuse to institute a time limit on sharing because it might hurt someone’s feelings. I stand up, stretch, go to her, and bury my head in her shoulder, which I can tell surprises her because she freezes up momentarily before embracing back. She reeks of smoke, which is what happens at Gamblers Anonymous meetings because everyone is an addict and they all smoke like cigarettes are the new crack during breaks. But this time she smells even smokier. And it’s really late.

“You do the meeting after the meeting?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes again and laughs a bit. “I don’t know why I even bother. Gwen G. makes me homicidally crazy.” She goes to the refrigerator, pulls out a chocolate pudding, grabs a spoon, and sits on the couch. Dorcas comes and curls up at her feet, and she massages Dorcas’s stomach with the bottom of her left foot.

I sit back down on the couch opposite her.

“So, you know how I told you we were killing it, and you were all, ‘Uh, sure you are’? Well … I have some news.”

This gets her attention and she sits up and leans in toward me. “What? Tell me tell me.”

“Drumroll, please,” I say, and she approximates a drumroll, which makes Dorcas look at her like, Bitch, please.

“Well … I came home to tell you that I have the money. For the mortgage. All of it. We’ve basically kicked ass on the truck. We’re pulling in, like, a thousand a day out there, pretty much.”

Her face lights up. “No. Way.”

“Yes. Way,” I say.

She puts her hand on her heart. “We’re really … You made all the back-mortgage money? Really?”

I nod, feeling so proud I could basically pop. “Really.”

Tears form in her eyes. “Oh my God. Oh my God!”

“Yup,” I say, warmth spreading throughout my body.