“Go get dressed, and then we’ll have to eat a fast breakfast.”
I wash my face and moisturize. My phone buzzes on the counter. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. I’m opening the store this morning and wanted to check in. It’s been a few days since I heard from you.”
These past few days have been a whirlwind. The kind that blows through and leaves everything in disarray. I wouldn’t even know what day it is, except that the bus schedule has become my latest required obsession.
“It’s been busy. I had to take my car to the shop.”
“Really? It’s not very old.”
“Yep. Apparently, the wheel could fall off.” I smooth a light layer of foundation underneath my eyes to hide the dark circles and bags.
She makes a clucking sound. “Luxury for an exorbitant amount of money, but the wheels fall off. Ha!”
My thoughts exactly.
“Well, what’s this delightful surprise doing for you?”
I want to laugh because there really isn’t always a bright side, at least not when the storms keep rolling in. “Nothing but make things twenty times more difficult than they already are.”
“I’m sorry, honey.” My mom loves drama, but she fully understands the struggle of being a single mom with minimal funds.
“I’ve been able to get a few rides to and from work, but I’m taking the bus.”
When I say it, it doesn’t sound so bad. The reality is it sucks ass. Like right now, when I need to get the kids ready and out the door, and also figure out how to manage groceries on the bus.
I thought about having them delivered, but that costs money I don’t have, and unfortunately, every penny counts.
“Who have you been getting a ride with?” My mom’s tone perks right back up.
Only my mom would look at this situation as a golden opportunity in disguise. I won’t be discussing my morning rides with my grumbly neighbor.
We’ve ridden together a total of three times. The first was unexpected, to say the least. He commanded and groaned, but for some reason, the man’s outward annoyance with life is amusing. There’s comfort in knowing others feel the struggle, and it’s clear he has some of his own.
Each day since, he’s sat inside his truck, waiting for me. He’s driven mainly in silence to the soft sounds of old country music on the radio.
“The neighbor across the street has been giving me a ride to work, and Kat has brought me home when she’s not in court.” I brush on a thick layer of mascara, seeing movement out of the corner of my eye.
“Oh, you met your neighbors? That’s great, honey. I . . .”
Frankie crawls toward the edge of the bed, and I rush to her, leaving my mom’s interlude about great neighbors. I scoop Frankie up, and she giggles and squirms as I carry her into the bathroom.
“Mom, I’ve gotta go so I can get the kids breakfast.” I run the thin black brush over my other eyelashes again.
“Ok. Do you think you’ll be home for Thanksgiving? We’re organizing a potluck. I work Black Friday, but I’d love to see you and my babies. Russ’s kids will be in town, but I hope you can come home. I miss you three.”
My mom manages a boutique consignment shop that only accepts name brands and high-end items. Most items come from the big cities, and she constantly snags things I could never afford. It’s what allows me to look even remotely professional every day.
Russ is my mom’s current boyfriend. He’s a nice guy, but spending Thanksgiving crammed into her trailer with his kids and pretending to be some happy family doesn’t sound like a good time.
Also, the thought of going home makes me want to puke. My mom loves the small town she grew up in and is chairwoman of the mobile home community she delights in. She’s the busiest of bodies and knows everything about everyone. If there’s a function to organize, she’s on it, but I couldn’t wait to get out and never return.
The thing about small towns is that everyone knows everyone and everything about them, or at least they think they do. With my mom’sloud personality and rotation of boyfriends, I never had a chance to remain under the radar.
When I left, it only got worse. She made sure everyone was aware of each achievement as any proud mom would. When I married Miles, I was suddenly no longer Susie’s girl with different colored eyes from the other side of the tracks. My DMs were filled with townsfolk who’d never had a kind thing to say until they wanted a wedding invitation.
“I don’t know, Mom. I’m taking it one day at a time.”
