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“So I’ve been told.”
I sit all the way up and take the pills, washing them down with a hefty swig of the sparkling water, the fizziness filling up my empty stomach in odd ways. I can feel the layer of sweat on my skin, and the sudden craving for a shower is swift and absolute.
“Get out, Mom. I need to shower.”
She hesitates on the threshold of my door, which tips me off that she has more to say. With a deep breath, I sit back down on my mattress and pat the space next to me. Mom comes over and sits, perfectly graceful as usual, hands folded in her lap.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Your landlord called this morning and said you’re breaking your lease… Why, Andries? We worked hard to find that place for you.”
She sounds hurt, and I hate it. “I just need a change of scenery, and someplace that no one can find me.”
“Do you mean a place that Roxanne can’t find you?” Her question is gentle.
“Yes, and no. She’s part of the reason, but I had a weird encounter the other day with someone. When I got home, that journalist Kenneth that did the hit piece on you was waiting for me.”
Mom’s eyes go wide, and she lays a hand over her chest. “I can’t believe it! After all this time, what is that toad doing crawling out of the woodwork to bother my son?”
“He knew my name, and I recognized him right away, which seemed to surprise him. He was asking questions about Roxanne, acting like he’s doing a piece on her company, butconsidering his history with the family, I can’t help but think it’s about me too.”
Even in the darkness of my room I can see Mom looks pale. “If that’s true… then I can understand wanting to move. But there are other options. We could get security for you.”
I shake my head. “I’ve already found a new place.”
She looks at me for a long moment, in that probing way only mothers can manage. “You’re not going to like what I have to say… but I think you should stay here for some time. It’s all too easy to fall into old patterns like drinking, and you’ll be safe from that journalist here too. In fact, I insist you stay.”
I look at her like she’s crazy. “Mother, school is an hour away. I’m not commuting that far.”
“Our driver can take you and bring you back. You could even do homework in the car.”
“Mom. I have a new flat to move into. I just told you that.”
“You can sleep at your new flat when you’re responsible enough, Andries. Until then, stay home, and recoup your sense and your health.”
Her tone is stubborn, and I know I can’t win, so I have to at least set some boundaries, so I’m not completely screwed by living here.
“I’ll stay on the condition that I don’t have to attend any social events that I don’t want to be a part of,” I counter.
She thinks it over, tapping her lips with a finger as she does so, and I can clearly see the judge in her wanting to break down my conditions into the very smallest pieces, but she refrains.
“Okay. That’s acceptable.”
I still don’t like it, but it is what it is. “Great. Now, shower?”
She does as I ask, her passive-aggressive commentary continuing as she exits, only to return a second later with a pile of fluffy towels for me. This time when she goes out the door,I lock it for good measure, and take my towels and change of clothes to my ensuite bathroom.
I have every intention of showering, but when I lay my eyes on the large marble tub that I had all but forgotten about, I say fuck it, and run a bath instead. Not the most efficient way of cleansing myself, but I think a good soak will work wonders.
I find a bag of mint Epsom salts under the sink, some long-discarded part of a home spa package that some well- meaning distant relative had gifted us kids one holiday, and dump the entire package into the filling basin. The salt dissolves as soon as it hits the steaming water, and the room is filled with the scent of clean, crisp, brine and spearmint.
I shed my silk pajama pants, the only article of clothing I’ve been wearing while hiding in my bedroom, and lower myself into the bath with slow movements. It’s too hot, but I don’t care. The water envelops me, and I sigh in comfort, sinking as low as I can.
I stay there for way too long, my muscles finally relaxing, and the sweat being washed away to leave me feeling more like myself than I have in days. I ignore the messages coming in on my phone, the ticking of the clock, and the noises I hear coming from the rest of the house. I’m determined to soak here until I emerge as a new man.
At least an hour and a half later, I raise myself out of the water, toweling off and facing my reflection in full for the first time in days. I wince immediately and the scrubby stubble on my face and the sallow color of my skin. Tying the towel around my waist and beginning the tedious task of shaving.
Once I’ve finished, I check myself again. It’s… a bit better, I guess, but I still look like shit. I pinch my cheeks to try to bring some color back, but when it doesn’t work, I take more drastic measures, picking up my phone and texting Elise.
