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I grabbed my phone from my desk and sat down, breathing heavy, hands shaking. I called my mom.
I watched on the monitor as the caregiver fumbled around the couch cushions for the ringing phone. Once found, she put it in Mom’s hand, helping her swipe to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom,” I croaked. The backs of my eyes burned already. “I miss you.”
“I don’t think this is for me,” Mom said quietly, her voice distant. On the monitor I watched as she turned to her caregiver, offering her the phone. The caregiver pushed it back. “Are you sure?”
“Mom? It’s me, Ray.”
The sound of shuffling leaked through the phone as she lifted it to her ear again. “I’m sorry, who?”
The knot in my throat flared. “Raylene. Ray. Your daughter.” I sniffled and wiped the back of my hand against my leaky nose.
“I don’t think I have a daughter,” Mom said, the confusion dripping from her words like she’d lost her way in the fog. “I’m sorry, honey, I think you have the wrong number. My name is Jane.”
“I know it is,” I whimpered. “Jane Harleson. I’m your daughter, Raylene Harleson.”
“That can’t be right. That can’t be,” she murmured, turning to her caregiver once again. She only nodded in response. “Adam and I didn’t have any children.”
“You did. You do. Me,” I pressed.
“I don’t want to argue with you.”
“I don’t either, Mom.” I fought against the hurt, forcing myself to breathe, forcing myself to try to be okay with it. “I love you and I miss you. That’s all I wanted to say.”
“That's… very nice of you to say, but The Price Is Right is just about to start?—”
I couldn’t do it, couldn’t handle it.
I choked back my sob as I hung up on her, placing the phone face down on the desk. Such a conversation wasn’t new or unusual, but every time it seemed to hurt even more. It was happening more frequently, at least a few times a day at a minimum, if not an entire day altogether. She wasn’t Mom when she was like this. She didn’t feel like the one who raised me, the one who taught me everything, the one who made me into the person I had become. The woman she was now was a shell of herself, and subsequently, so was I.
Chapter 10
Wade
Despite the numerous obligations I had, all I could do was sit and stare between my clock and the glass that separated my office from Ray’s. She’d pulled the blinds back up and although I didn’t know why, it made me feel like she might be more open—to a plan, to suggestions and ideas, to me.
I went over it in my head, running through the ways I could propose it to her. This will benefit us both. It’s only for a few weeks. You can go back to hating me after. I was thoroughly confident she’d said yes, after all, she had no reason to say no. I just had to do it right, and doing it right meant getting her out of the office and somewhere more casual, somewhere she could relax and not feel so pent up. A place she wouldn’t have the chance to go otherwise.
At twelve o’clock on the dot, I pressed the little intercom button and leaned over to the microphone. “Did you do as requested today, Blunder Bunny?”
The surprise of hearing my voice made her stiffen. She turned in her seat toward the glass, her gaze narrowing at what was only a reflection of herself, and motioned with her hand to the tight, black dress that covered her flesh. Professional, but a little nicer than her everyday wear. I worried she’d push back on my email last night and wear something a little more formal, but she hadn’t.
Obviously, she mouthed.
“Perfect. Let’s go then.”
Where?
“Lunch.”
————
Ray had insisted on driving separately. Why she didn’t want to ride in my Lamborghini Aventador and preferred her nearly twenty-year-old Toyota was beyond me. I didn’t want to tell her exactly where we were going, so she’d made a deal: she would follow me, and I wouldn’t break the speed limit. Neurotic to the bone.
I got out as she pulled in behind me, brakes screeching and something clunking beneath the body. Her passenger-side window was halfway down, and when she turned off the car without putting it up, it clicked that the power motor inside of it was likely shot.
