Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I make him uncomfortable. It isn’t hard to guess why. I’m sure he often contemplates ridding the one loose end that could unravel him. I have no doubts whatsoever he regrets the thing that happened two years ago. To hammer that thought home, he dismisses me by dragging his phone from his pocket.
One of the clients snaps his fingers, and it breaks me from my reverie. The moment I leave the table, Ronan is up and out of the door.
***
When I stumble into the run-down apartment in Dorchester that I call home, I can barely keep my eyes open.
The place isn’t much to look at. It’s the same apartment I’ve spent my whole life in, with a mother who worked hard to keep the water-stained roof over our heads. There are two bedrooms, a parlor, a kitchen, and the most basic of furniture.
We never had nice things. After my father died, Ma spent her money keeping me and Emily fed and clothed and healthy, and that was pretty much the extent of it. But the place was always neat and tidy, and it always felt like home.
Now there is dust collecting on the furniture, and a musty smell that I can’t seem to rid no matter how much I air the place out. My clothes from work are scattered around the apartment, along with the various pill bottles and medical equipment mom needs.
Emily’s in California, on a scholarship to UCSD, so most of her stuff is gone. Without all of her pink girly things around, everything is washed out in gray. It’s the same place I’ve always lived. But looking at it now, it doesn’t feel like home anymore.
I plod into the kitchen and find Amy sitting at the table, flipping through a magazine.
When Ma got too sick, I had to hire a home nurse for when I couldn’t be here. Amy was the woman for the job. She’s sweet and kind and very good at what she does, and she makes Ma as comfortable as she can these days. Plus, she makes me food, so basically she’s the only one keeping me alive at this point.
“How is she?” I ask.
“She’s actually awake right now,” Amy answers. “And pretty lucid, if you want to go see her.”
I toss my bags onto the kitchen table and seize the opportunity with gusto. There aren’t very many of these moments anymore, so I take them as they come.
“Thank you, honey.”
“No problem,” she says. “I’m going to head out for the night. Supper’s in the fridge.”
“Okay, drive safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Amy slips out the front door and I throw on a sweatshirt before heading into Ma’s room. I don’t want to smell like perfume and liquor when I visit with her. She knows what I do for a living, but it doesn’t mean I have to throw it in her face. I try not to if I can help it.
My mother had high hopes for me. As a child, she affectionately deemed me her ‘little calculator’. I worked hard in school and made the honor roll every year. But when it came to math, it was always my worst subject. I’d failed so many homework assignments that the teacher finally pushed Ma to hire a tutor for me. And when the tutor came to help me, I learned I wasn’t bad at math at all. In fact, I could do any calculation she threw at me, so long as it wasn’t on paper. Before long, I was doing calculus and university level math equations.
It was a shock to everyone, but especially my mother. When they asked me how I did the calculations, I couldn’t explain it. It was just one of those weird things that came naturally to me, and my mother was convinced I would go places with it. So you can imagine her disappointment when I took my talents down to the local strip club instead.
But I can’t be sorry for it, because it means she’s here with me in her final months. And math didn’t do that, but dancing did. It’s the only way I can look my mother in the eyes right now and believe that I’m doing the right thing. Because if I wasn’t dancing, she wouldn’t be here. In her own home. I wouldn’t be able to take care of her the way she deserves. The way that she’s taken care of me my whole life.
My eyes land on her tiny frame in the bed. She occupies barely any space now. It doesn’t matter how many times I see her like this, the sight still hits me like a ton of bricks every time. A painful lump takes shape in my throat and my eyes fill with pressure, but I choke it back as I move towards her.