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Mom’s lying on the sofa with a blanket over her legs. She looks tired but no more than usual.
“I thought you’d be in bed.” She shakes her head and narrows her eyes, fixing me with a look that tells me I’m in for one hell of a tongue-lashing.
“I was waiting up for you. I assumed the interview would take less than 15 minutes and you’d be home for Joel’s bath time."
Fuck.“No, it took longer than I expected. Lots of forms to fill in. Did he go to sleep alright?” I drop my bag on the floor. She takes note of my hot pants, crop top, and raises a sparse eyebrow.
“He did. I doubt the 7-11 cares about forms, Rory. Mr. Sanchez usually employs illegals,” Mom comments dryly. “So where were you?”
I shuffle on the spot. She’s like a dog with a bone.
“The interview wasn’t for the 7-11.”
“No shit, Sherlock. You wouldn’t last five minutes there.”
“Rude.”
“Honest.”
OK, so customer service isn’t one of my soft skills, but I can be nice. Sometimes.
“Sit down, honey, and tell me where you were.” She pats the sofa and I collapse in a heap. I hate lying to her but I know if I’d mentioned this earlier, she’d have talked me out of it. For very valid reasons, I might add.
“I auditioned as a dancer at Club Venom, and they hired me, so I’ll pick up a couple of shifts a week and earn some decent extra money.”
Mom stays silent for a beat, then she says, “You could have told me, I know the hospital is chasing us for money.”
“You do?” I thought I’d done a great job of hiding it, but clearly not.
“Yes, the billing department has called twice this week. I know we don’t have enough money, so I’m going to cancel the next round of chemo.”
“No! You can’t do that!” I leap up, so upset and angry with her that I can barely breathe. If she doesn’t finish all the chemo, it might not work.
“Honey, we can’t afford it. The insurance only pays for some of my treatment, and I’d rather enjoy what life I have left than be sick as a dog.”
Tears drip down my face at the thought of losing my mom and I quickly wipe them away with my sleeve. She means the world to me. She’s supported me through everything, she didn’t judge me for what happened withhim, and when Joel arrived, she never once looked at him as if he was tainted in any way. She even moved us here, far away from her friends and support network, so we could be safe.
I fall into her arms, trying not to notice how thin she is while she strokes my hair like she did when I was small.
“Don’t cry, baby girl, it will be fine. If God wants me to live a long and happy life, then I’ll get better. If not, then it is what it is.”
“No, Mom, I refuse to accept this.” I glare at her. “I’ve taken on this job to help pay for your medical care. It pays well so we should be fine.”
“I don’t want you dancing at a club, Rory. This is not why you took dancing lessons for years.”
“It’s still dancing, and the club is nice, Mom.” OK, so that’s stretching the truth, but the clubisnice, and they do look after the dancers. Hell, my boss even gave me a lift home. Not that I’m thinking too much about him - or telling Mom. “Let me try this for a couple of weeks and see where we’re at. Then we can decide.” Mom doesn’t look convinced. “Please!” I implore.
She wavers and then sighs. “Fine, but I’ll not have you running yourself into the ground. You’re only 23, Rory, you should be out having fun with your friends, not working two jobs!”
“You know I have no friends, Mom,” I tease. “Besides, I have you and Joel, that’s all I need.”
“You need a nice man in your life, honey, someone to take care of you.”
She means like Dad, a man who is reliable, safe, and who won’t treat me like a possession. Basically, the exact opposite of my previous boyfriend, Joel’s father.
“Sadly, they are in short supply, so in the meantime, I’ll stick with my battery-operated boyfriend.”
Mom laughs and then drags herself up from the sofa. “I’m going to bed, Rory, so sweet dreams. If you get Joel up in the morning, I’ll take him to nursery.” She kisses me on the cheek and disappears into her bedroom.
