Page 5 of Playing Pretend
“I cut the call before he could,” she replied with nonchalance, like writing my sister off had been easy for her. I knew it wasn’t, but I also knew that my mother had become a professional at moving on.
“You’ll let me know if he calls again?”
“Of course darling.” Her voice drifted away from the phone as she spoke to someone in the background. When she spoke again her tone had lightened, and filled with exuberance. “Sorry, that was your Aunt. She says to tell you hi, and that you’d better get you’re a-s-s here soon.”
I giggled, loving the way my mother had let go of some of her rigid etiquette. “I’m going to be busy for the next few weeks, but as soon as I can get a day off, I’ll come visit you. Promise.”
“Good, because I’ve met someone.” Her words came out in a rush, and my eyes widened in surprise.
“You have? Mom, that’s great!”
I checked my watch, and started walking again, afraid to get back to my apartment in the dark.
“You think so?” my Mother asked, sounding unsure.
“YES!” I laughed. “Is he nice? Where did you meet him?”
“His name is Byron, and we met at the clinic where I have my group therapy. His wife passed away from breast cancer three years ago, and he doesn’t have any children. We had our first date last week, and I’m seeing him again this coming weekend.”
“I’m so happy for you, Mom. You deserve it.”
And that was the truth. I wanted my Mother to find someone she could spend the rest of her life with, and show her that life was still worth living. After she’d left my father, she slipped into a terrible depression that I feared she would never escape. For months I’d secretly corresponded with my aunt, checking up on my mother, and getting updates about her therapy. Now, five years later, she sounded like the woman who had been my best friend growing up. The sentiment made my chest swell with glee.
“Thank you,” my Mother replied. I could hear her grin from the other end of the line. “I hope you can come visit soon, so you can meet him.”
“I’d like that.” I stopped just outside the subway station in Times Square. “Mom, I have to go, I’m about to catch the subway. I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” my mother sniffled suddenly, her voice raspy. “But I want you to know that I’m also so proud of you, Kadence.”
I swallowed the tight ball of emotions lodged in throat, and squeezed my eyes closed. “Thanks Mom. I’ll call you soon, okay?”
“Alright sweetheart. I love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
I ended the call, and inhaled a calming breath before descending the steps leading to the platforms. When I finally arrived home, I’d managed to clear all thoughts of my father, and my sister, and only dwelled on the contentment my Mother had finally been able to find.
I shut the door to my shoebox-sized apartment, and dropped my purse onto the floor before moving a dresser left behind by the previous tenant in front of the door. While I didn’t have enough clothes to fill it up, I was able to find another use for it. The space was so small that my bedroom, living room, and kitchen were the same room, but it was better than having to sleep in my car. After a lukewarm shower – I had a feeling I was going to have to get used to those – I went about getting my clothes ready for the next day. I washed them in the small bathroom sink, and hung them on the old shower curtain rail to dry. Mentally, I catalogued how long before I got paid my first check, and then made a mental note to look up some thrift stores in Brooklyn so that I could buy some more clothes. When my nightly ritual was done, I made myself a peanut butter sandwich, and fell onto my blow up mattress with a huff. I’d fallen a long way down in terms of where I lived, and the clothes I wore, but with a wistful sigh and the promise that it was only temporary, I told myself I had what I needed, and that’s what mattered.
