pride.
When 4:30 rolls around I reach for the handle of the Jetta. My phone rings in my back pocket so I grab it, noticing Heidi’s dimpled face and bright hazel eyes lighting up the screen.
“Hey girl.”
“Kimber, did I time it right or what? Are you done at the Bruin’s?”
I laugh, “You’re lucky she let me leave when she did, time waster. You made me late this morning.”
“Ahhh no, Andrew made you late. He showed back up in your life and screwed with your mojo.”
“Damn, Heidi, I almost forgot about that whole fiasco this morning. You would have to go and bring it back up.”
She giggles, “Just keepin it real. What’s this thing going on tonight?”
I sigh at having to go over this with her again. Sometimes she can be so stubborn, “This thing is nothing, I have to work, and that’s all. You as usual have nothing going on so if you want to catch up, you should stop by the Duck and I’ll buy you a beer.” I add to make it even sweeter, “It’s Monday night, so no one will even know you showed your face.” God forbid.
“Umm, I’ll think about it.”
Frustration rings in my voice, “What is there to think about you told me this morning that you’d come? Either come or not, I’ll be there regardless.”
“Okay, I think I can make it.” She exasperates me when she drags her feet like this.
Abruptly I end the call climbing into my car, “Okay girl, see you tonight.”
My hand moves out of habit to caress the dash, while pleading silently with my car not to give me any problems. It starts right up with the turn of the key. Pulling down the long drive under the canopy of bright green leaves overhead, I notice the grey clouds rolling across the sky. A rainy, Monday night, it’s not going to be very busy at the bar. Super.
When I pull into the short dirt drive, torrents of rain are enveloping my house. A glance around the car reminds me, I forgot to put the umbrella back in here after the last time a storm hit. Great. I open the door and dash to the front of the house with my key ready. Unfortunately, that small expanse between the car and the door drench me. As soon as I walk in, my mom’s scratchy voice calls out, “Kimber, is that you girl?”
“Yes, Momma, I just got done at Mrs. Bruin’s.”
I run my hand through my now soaking wet hair as I answer and make my way to the kitchen. The sight is the same as usual. She’s sitting at the rickety kitchen table with a stained laminate surface. Her posture is slanted as she leans in for support. The hair on her head has just about completely changed to gray, oily from lack of a shower. Tiny hints of blonde still stand out, but just barely. Before she got sick she took better care of herself. We used to look alike. Once upon a time her eyes were a vibrant blue and she was so full of life. Now it seems the disease has taken all the color from her. Her eyes are more of a steel grey, dulling more each day.
“Hey Momma, you want some help getting’ into the shower before I get ready for work?”
She turns toward me with a cigarette hanging half out of her mouth and utters around it, “You didn’t tell me Jenna’s in town.”
Shit. How’d she find out? “No, Momma I didn’t. She said she wouldn’t be here long.” I let my voice trail off. It’s obvious from the slur in her words that she’s had a lot to drink today. She started with a glass of vodka this morning, I wonder if she’s been at it all day.
Her voice takes on a whiny quality, “I know you girls are done with me. Jenna don’t even wanna visit anymore.”
Oh boy, here comes the guilt. She’ll go into this whole spiel about how we don’t love her and we’d be better off without her.
I lurch forward and slide my arm around her bony back. She’s not eating again; the vodka is going to have to go. I take her cigarette away and put it out in the ashtray. Grasping her other hand in front, I pull her up out of the chair. Her whole body shifts to lean on me.
When 4:30 rolls around I reach for the handle of the Jetta. My phone rings in my back pocket so I grab it, noticing Heidi’s dimpled face and bright hazel eyes lighting up the screen.
“Hey girl.”
“Kimber, did I time it right or what? Are you done at the Bruin’s?”
I laugh, “You’re lucky she let me leave when she did, time waster. You made me late this morning.”
“Ahhh no, Andrew made you late. He showed back up in your life and screwed with your mojo.”
“Damn, Heidi, I almost forgot about that whole fiasco this morning. You would have to go and bring it back up.”
She giggles, “Just keepin it real. What’s this thing going on tonight?”
I sigh at having to go over this with her again. Sometimes she can be so stubborn, “This thing is nothing, I have to work, and that’s all. You as usual have nothing going on so if you want to catch up, you should stop by the Duck and I’ll buy you a beer.” I add to make it even sweeter, “It’s Monday night, so no one will even know you showed your face.” God forbid.
“Umm, I’ll think about it.”
Frustration rings in my voice, “What is there to think about you told me this morning that you’d come? Either come or not, I’ll be there regardless.”
“Okay, I think I can make it.” She exasperates me when she drags her feet like this.
Abruptly I end the call climbing into my car, “Okay girl, see you tonight.”
My hand moves out of habit to caress the dash, while pleading silently with my car not to give me any problems. It starts right up with the turn of the key. Pulling down the long drive under the canopy of bright green leaves overhead, I notice the grey clouds rolling across the sky. A rainy, Monday night, it’s not going to be very busy at the bar. Super.
When I pull into the short dirt drive, torrents of rain are enveloping my house. A glance around the car reminds me, I forgot to put the umbrella back in here after the last time a storm hit. Great. I open the door and dash to the front of the house with my key ready. Unfortunately, that small expanse between the car and the door drench me. As soon as I walk in, my mom’s scratchy voice calls out, “Kimber, is that you girl?”
“Yes, Momma, I just got done at Mrs. Bruin’s.”
I run my hand through my now soaking wet hair as I answer and make my way to the kitchen. The sight is the same as usual. She’s sitting at the rickety kitchen table with a stained laminate surface. Her posture is slanted as she leans in for support. The hair on her head has just about completely changed to gray, oily from lack of a shower. Tiny hints of blonde still stand out, but just barely. Before she got sick she took better care of herself. We used to look alike. Once upon a time her eyes were a vibrant blue and she was so full of life. Now it seems the disease has taken all the color from her. Her eyes are more of a steel grey, dulling more each day.
“Hey Momma, you want some help getting’ into the shower before I get ready for work?”
She turns toward me with a cigarette hanging half out of her mouth and utters around it, “You didn’t tell me Jenna’s in town.”
Shit. How’d she find out? “No, Momma I didn’t. She said she wouldn’t be here long.” I let my voice trail off. It’s obvious from the slur in her words that she’s had a lot to drink today. She started with a glass of vodka this morning, I wonder if she’s been at it all day.
Her voice takes on a whiny quality, “I know you girls are done with me. Jenna don’t even wanna visit anymore.”
Oh boy, here comes the guilt. She’ll go into this whole spiel about how we don’t love her and we’d be better off without her.
I lurch forward and slide my arm around her bony back. She’s not eating again; the vodka is going to have to go. I take her cigarette away and put it out in the ashtray. Grasping her other hand in front, I pull her up out of the chair. Her whole body shifts to lean on me.
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