Waking Up to Love by Evan Purcell

the wife and the friend.”
    “Thanks,” Ramona said. “That means a lot.”
    “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Ramona had to concentrate on walking. One foot in front of the other. Repeat. Repeat. Otherwise, she’d trip over those damn boxes, or over her own clumsy feet, and topple down the stairs.
    She didn’t even bother wiping away the tears.
    Deep down, she knew where she stood with Scott. The “Friend Zone,” or whatever they call it on television, has very clear signage. “Welcome to the Friend Zone.” None of this was new to her. But having Debra, the closest mother figure in her life, lay it out like that—Ramona hurt.
    She wanted to make a quick exit. Normally, she’d dawdle in the living room, admiring the woodwork and appreciating the family photos. Normally, she’d linger. But suddenly this house didn’t seem as inviting. It seemed oppressive.
    What was worse, she didn’t feel like a part of the house. Not anymore. As a kid, McInney Manor felt like her real home. Here, no one screamed at each other. No one threw plates. Even though it was just wood, and concrete, and plaster, the house always called out to her. It was the X on her pirate map.
    But now—now she didn’t know how she felt, except for the nagging feeling that she had to leave. Right away.
    When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she looked around to see if anyone else was here. She didn’t need any more conversation, at least not now. The coast was clear, so Ramona spy-walked through the empty hallway and the empty kitchen. All she had to do was cross the living room. Then she’d make her escape.
    But as she entered the living room, she heard a horrible cry of pain. Then another. Then another. Then a gruff voice barked, “Over here, soldiers!”
    Great. Someone was watching TV.
    No, that wasn’t quite right. Someone was playing a video game.
    Ramona saw a blond mop of hair peeking out over the top of the couch: Jeffrey. His back was to her. She could see that he was blasting some sort of green creatures with a laser gun.
    He seemed completely invested in his mission. Maybe he wouldn’t notice her leaving.
    Ramona knew every inch of this house, but she seemed to always forget that one inch—that one very important inch of floorboard that creaked every time someone stepped on it.
    Creeeeeaaak
.
    “Ramona?” Jeffrey asked without turning.
    “Yeah,” she admitted. “I was just—”
    “Ramona, can I ask you something?” He still didn’t turn to look at her.
    “Sure?”
    “Dad always tells me that lying is bad,” he said. “You know, like about grades and stuff.”
    “Your father is a very wise man,” Ramona said.
    “Don’t flatter him,” Jeffrey corrected. “Everyone knows that lying is bad. Especially when you lie to old people. That’s like the worst.”
    He killed a few more creatures.
    Ramona had the sinking suspicion that she knew where this conversation was headed. “Honey,” she said. “I really have to get going. I’m late for—”
    “Why are you lying to Grandma?” the boy blurted out.
    Such a simple question. Such a simple, simple question.
    “Well,” Ramona said, “your grandma is still sick. And we thought that it would help her get better if we—”
    “If you pretended to be Aunt Nessa?”
    “Did your daddy tell you that?” Ramona asked.
    “Yeah.”
    “It’s true,” she said. She couldn’t lie to him.
    He didn’t say anything for a long time. The only sounds in that living room were floor creaks and video game death noises. Ramona thought she was finally in the clear, but then Jeffrey said, “Why?”
    Ramona smiled down at Jeffrey, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy killing space mutants. Or zombies.
    “You know what, Jeffrey?” she said. She looked at the TV screen. Yup. Definitely space mutants.
    “What?” the boy asked.
    “I honestly don’t know.”

Chapter Six
    Ramona grabbed two packets of organic, wheat-based cracker substitutes, and tossed them into her cart.