Davies was not amused. His overtanned brow folded into a scary frown, making him look even more like a wallet. “You said nothing about this in your interview.”
“I didn’t know,” I babbled. “I just found out. My boyfriend and I couldn’t be happier, though. Maybe you know him? He used to play football for the Cardinals. I mean, if—”
“That’s enough, Miss Barrett. You’re not a good fit for the project after all.”
Ha-ha, I bet, you bastard.
I practically ran out of his office, beyond relieved to reach the sanctity of the front desk. Though I hated to ask, it might even be good to get Rob to come in, provided he was willing to play the role of baby daddy. Jesus, FML. It pissed me off, however, that I needed to trot a burly guy in to register myself as off-limits with Davies. Assholes like him had all the power.
Somehow I got through the rest of the afternoon without any problems. My mom wasn’t back from work when I got home, so I changed clothes and started dinner. It seemed like the least I could do since we hadn’t hung out as much, between Stuart and Rob. I had meat loaf burgers done by the time she walked in the door.
“Wow, something smells great.”
“You’re late tonight. Work stuff?”
“Yeah, there was a problem in the budget—” Whenever my mom talked about her job, the words pretty much all blended into white noise.
After we ate and cleared the table, she asked, “Do you want to watch some TV?”
I’d missed this, and since I didn’t know how long it would last, I nodded. “Sure, whatever you want.”
She picked a movie I’d already watched with Nadia, but I didn’t say anything. It was good the second time with my mom arguing with the characters, as if they could hear her. I remembered all of those days when I’d come from school, and she was too sad to get out of bed...how I’d leave food outside her bedroom, and there would be a dirty plate outside the door in the morning. Since I was a kid, I gave her stuff like peanut butter and jelly with a side of cookies, so she just got fatter and sadder. Some days, she didn’t come out at all, and I lived on whatever I could scrounge. Which could’ve been worse; I was eleven, not five. That shit went on for years. Nobody knew—not even Nadia—how bad my mom’s depression was. I tried to hide it, like it was a shameful secret, much as I did my own anxiety.
Mom caught me looking at her instead of the movie. “Something wrong?”
“No, I’m just happy, that’s all.”
“About what? Rob?”
“That we’re both okay,” I said quietly.
Her gaze dropped. “Me, too. I know it was rough around here, and I’m sorry I let you down. It’s a wonder you came out so well. No thanks to me.”
“You did your best at the time. It’s all anyone can do.”
“I really didn’t. I should’ve gotten help sooner, but...we couldn’t afford it.”
Nodding, I remembered how we’d done the shopping late at night, right before Safeway closed, so nobody would see her using vouchers instead of cash. Before my dad bailed, we’d sold the old house, leaving enough cash to buy this place outright. Otherwise, God knew what would’ve become of us. Things got better when they hired her as a bookkeeper six years ago, and now she was in charge of accounts payable or something. She was in a much better place when I left, but the real change, along with the weight loss, didn’t happen for another year.
“We survived. That which doesn’t kill us, et cetera.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me, too.”
Once the movie ended, I hugged her and went up to my room. It was close to nine, and I realized my phone must’ve died at some point, so I plugged it in and got ready for bed. I had two messages waiting, one from Rob, and the other, surprisingly, from Avery.
Rob: Call me. That was time-stamped four hours ago. His messages were always sparse, and I didn’t picture him ever sexting me. Probably for the best.
Avery: Had fun last night, my turn to host. You and me, Krista and Jillian. Friday night. Can you make it?
I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to hang out with the girl who thought driving lessons equaled sex, but since Avery was a good sport about karaoke and she’d given Rob her blessing, I sent back, Yeah, what time?
Avery: 7:30, I’ll drive.
Me: Is there a dress code?
Silence from her, so I took that as a no. After brushing my teeth, I climbed in bed with my laptop, but before logging in to a game server, I called Rob. His text was so terse that I had no idea if it was important, or if he just wanted to hear my voice. The romantic junior high geek inside me fervently hoped this was the case, and maybe he’d also read me some poetry.
He picked up on the second ring, slightly out of breath. “Lauren.”
God bless caller ID for making me feel shiny. “You got me. What’s up?”
“Did you see my thingie?”
I smirked. “Several times.”
“No, on the web. The video channel.”
“Let me look.” Once I got on the site, I flipped through. “Wow, nice. Those are some excellent views, and you’re up to two hundred subscribers already.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means you need to post another video, soon. I’ll come over tomorrow to work on it, if you want. How would you feel about taking your shirt off in this one?”
“Lauren.” His flat tone told me he wasn’t amused.
“Fine, we’ll save that for the membership drive later on.” I was only half-kidding. If he was doing this well already, given time, his furniture business should see some traffic. “Have you gotten any orders?”
“Not yet.”
“That’s not a bad sign. It’s easy to watch things on the internet—takes a little more to convince people to part with their money. We’ll get there.”
“I got two emails, though,” he told me in a bemused tone. “Well, lines, I guess. One said, ‘you’re so hot,’ and the other said, ‘I’ll pay you to build a bookcase in my bedroom.’”
“I think not,” I said.
“People on the internet are so weird.”
“Truer words.” Shit. While I had him on the phone, I had to tell him about our love child. “So...you have to promise not to get mad at me.”
“I don’t like conversations that start that way. But okay.”