Crystal Lies - Melody Carlson [27]
“It is, isn’t it?”
“No, Jacob, it’s not. Your dad and I have been growing apart for years now. And its not so much that I wanted to leave him, if you can understand that, but I needed to get away to kind of find myself. Does that make sense?”
“Sort of. I guess I felt like that too.”
I sighed. “It’s so good to hear your voice again. I’ve been so worried about you. I wish you would’ve called sooner. You know it’s been almost a week now.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Where have you been staying?”
“With friends a few nights and in my car.”
“Are you… uh…okay?’ Of course, what I really wanted to ask was, are you doing drugs? But I didn’t want to scare him off. “Of course I’m okay.”
“Did you lose your job?”
“Well, it’s pretty hard to keep a job when you’re homeless.”
“You can come stay with me.”
“Really?” He sounded hopeful. “Do you have room?” I sort of laughed. “Well, it’s a pretty small place, but I saved a bedroom for you, if you want it.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
I gave him the address, and he said he’d stop by later on and unload some of his stuff. He didn’t promise to move in with me, but at least I was going to see him. Just hearing his voice was like medicine for me. I immediately went into high gear and started arranging the furniture pieces that had simply been stacked and shoved here and there. I dug out the white canvas slipcover I’d purchased for my dog-ugly couch, which actually had “good bones,” and I pulled and tugged until I finally got it on. To my surprise, it wasn’t half-bad. And when I added the colorful pillows I’d confiscated from my previous home, it looked even better. It was a start.
I worked and worked. Moving and arranging and putting away. And finally it looked almost habitable and considerably bigger now that everything was in its place and out of the way And then, feeling encouraged, I took a quick shower, and for the first time in days I put on something besides my gray sweats. As I ran a brush through my wet hair and noticed the strange woman looking back at me from the slightly steamed-up bathroom mirror, I winced at the tired image of my mother that I was becoming.
Oh, I knew that my once-auburn hair had gotten progressively grayer during the past year. In fact, it seemed almost colorless now. And I suspected I had more wrinkles than before, but the haggard old woman that stared back at me in the mirror was slightly frightening. And it became even worse as the fog from the mirror slowly evaporated and each line and wrinkle etched into my painfully pale face became more noticeable. I leaned forward and stared, touching my cheek with my hand to see if it was really me.
No wonder Sherry had accused me of letting myself go lately. Even so, I couldn’t convince myself to apply any makeup or do more than just pull back my shoulder-length hair into my usual tortoiseshell clip. I didn’t have time or inclination for primping today.
For one thing, I knew that despite my massive stock-up session at the grocery store nearly a week ago, I was currently out of the basics like bread and milk and eggs, and I knew from experience that when Jacob arrived, he would be hungry—probably ravenous. So I made a list, grabbed my purse, and left a note on the door.
As I was driving toward the discount grocery store, my cell phone rang. Even though I despise it when people talk on the phone while in traffic, I thought it might be Jacob again, and so I decided to answer.
“Mom?”
“Sarah!” I exclaimed, pulling over to a side street. “I’ve been trying to reach you all week. How are you, honey?”
“What’s going on, Mom?” she demanded. “Dad told me I’d better talk to you.”
“That’s why I’ve been calling,” I told her, trying to gather my thoughts as I turned off the ignition. “I wanted to explain everything. But, first, tell me how you’re doing, Sarah. I’ve barely talked to you since you got home from Europe. Was it wonderful? I want to hear all