Heroes Exist (I'm Just Not One of Them)
TWENTY-SIX
My head is killing me.
For obvious reasons.
But maybe that’s just what I’ve needed because for the first time in a long time I don’t feel like blowing a hole through my skull.
(Even if that would solve the issue of the hangover.)
No, I’m going to get things done. Maybe finally finish half the things I’d promised weeks ago.
If it weren’t kind of unsettling and depressing, I’d say the look on Heather’s face when I emerge from my room without prompting is priceless. As it is, I just give her a slight wave and keep going.
Out the door. Holy crap, I made it out the door.
This sounds pathetic, and it really kind of is, but this is probably the first time in nearly two weeks I’ve gone outside without Neil, Heather or Benni by my side.
I start humming under my breath as I walk.
Where I’m going I don’t know. Honestly it just feels good to be moving, to be out and about, and not to worry about any number of things that could go wrong.
The sky is a disgusting shade of gray but again, I’m riding on a high and a staving off the worst of a hangover with a handful of prayers, so I’ll count this as a win.
A thought tugs at the back of my mind: Haven’t called my mother in a while.
Idly I marvel at my good mood, because surely I’ve gone off the deep end if I actually feel like giving her a ring. Still, I call her up and as expected she barely lets it ring once before she picks up.
“Sidney?” There’s a hint of desperation to her greeting. A tight ball of guilt twists in my stomach but I ignore it, plastering a grin to my face even if she won’t see it.
“Hey mom,” I say easily, as if it hasn’t been nearly three months. “How are you?”
Oh, oh there’s a definite tremor building in her voice now. “I—I’ve been good,” she whispers. She sounds dumbstruck. “How—How are you?”
I must make some kind of noise that sounds a little like laughter because soon she’s laughing along with, the sound brittle and strained. “Silly question, sorry.”
“Not at all, but let’s ignore that for now, yeah?” I switch ears. “How’s Brianna?”
“Growing like a weed,” she chuckles. “And about as rambunctious as a puppy. She’ll be starting second grade soon.”
“That’s—” I nearly choke. “Isn’t she a little young? What happened to kindergarten? First grade?”
Mom answers simply, “She placed out” as if she herself is amazed, yet unwilling to break the spell.
“Huh.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
A brief lull forms between us, and I won’t lie, it’s a bit awkward.
Thankfully, she breaks the silence. “How’s Benni? Are you having any trouble in paradise yet?”
“We’re doing well so far, thanks for asking.”
“Are you going to—”
“No, mother.”
To my utter shock, she bursts into raucous peals of laughter. “Oh, forgive an old woman her amusements,” she says between giggles.
I can’t help it: I roll my eyes and give something like a smile, if smiles are dark and twisted. “You are incorrigible, mother.”
“Darling, it keeps me young.” Teasingly, she asks, “Don’t you want me to live forever?”
A cold thought stabs through me.
“You should come to Sterling.” The words come in a breathless rush.
A long silence draws out on the other end of the phone.
I wait for what seems like forever before she answers. “Are you sure?”
My heart swells at the sheer hopefulness of her tone. “Yeah,” I say. “I’ll pay for the airfare and everything so don’t worry about that, and you could stay at the apartment, we’ve got an extra room.” It then occurs to me that she’s been really quiet. I finish lamely, “You know, if you wanted to.”
Her breathing on the other end is the only thing I can hear.
“Mom?”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Of course.”
She sniffs.
Oh man, I made my mother cry. This was not part of the plan, damn it.
“When do you want me to come?”
Relief floods my system. Breathlessly, I answer: “This Saturday, is that okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Yeah.”
“Sidney?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Warmth spreads on my cheeks. “Love you.”
“Love you too, baby.”
And with that, I hang up.
So Saturday, huh?
Barring any other disasters or incidents, Saturday should work nicely.
For obvious reasons.
But maybe that’s just what I’ve needed because for the first time in a long time I don’t feel like blowing a hole through my skull.
(Even if that would solve the issue of the hangover.)
No, I’m going to get things done. Maybe finally finish half the things I’d promised weeks ago.
If it weren’t kind of unsettling and depressing, I’d say the look on Heather’s face when I emerge from my room without prompting is priceless. As it is, I just give her a slight wave and keep going.
Out the door. Holy crap, I made it out the door.
This sounds pathetic, and it really kind of is, but this is probably the first time in nearly two weeks I’ve gone outside without Neil, Heather or Benni by my side.
I start humming under my breath as I walk.
Where I’m going I don’t know. Honestly it just feels good to be moving, to be out and about, and not to worry about any number of things that could go wrong.
The sky is a disgusting shade of gray but again, I’m riding on a high and a staving off the worst of a hangover with a handful of prayers, so I’ll count this as a win.
A thought tugs at the back of my mind: Haven’t called my mother in a while.
Idly I marvel at my good mood, because surely I’ve gone off the deep end if I actually feel like giving her a ring. Still, I call her up and as expected she barely lets it ring once before she picks up.
“Sidney?” There’s a hint of desperation to her greeting. A tight ball of guilt twists in my stomach but I ignore it, plastering a grin to my face even if she won’t see it.
“Hey mom,” I say easily, as if it hasn’t been nearly three months. “How are you?”
Oh, oh there’s a definite tremor building in her voice now. “I—I’ve been good,” she whispers. She sounds dumbstruck. “How—How are you?”
I must make some kind of noise that sounds a little like laughter because soon she’s laughing along with, the sound brittle and strained. “Silly question, sorry.”
“Not at all, but let’s ignore that for now, yeah?” I switch ears. “How’s Brianna?”
“Growing like a weed,” she chuckles. “And about as rambunctious as a puppy. She’ll be starting second grade soon.”
“That’s—” I nearly choke. “Isn’t she a little young? What happened to kindergarten? First grade?”
Mom answers simply, “She placed out” as if she herself is amazed, yet unwilling to break the spell.
“Huh.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
A brief lull forms between us, and I won’t lie, it’s a bit awkward.
Thankfully, she breaks the silence. “How’s Benni? Are you having any trouble in paradise yet?”
“We’re doing well so far, thanks for asking.”
“Are you going to—”
“No, mother.”
To my utter shock, she bursts into raucous peals of laughter. “Oh, forgive an old woman her amusements,” she says between giggles.
I can’t help it: I roll my eyes and give something like a smile, if smiles are dark and twisted. “You are incorrigible, mother.”
“Darling, it keeps me young.” Teasingly, she asks, “Don’t you want me to live forever?”
A cold thought stabs through me.
“You should come to Sterling.” The words come in a breathless rush.
A long silence draws out on the other end of the phone.
I wait for what seems like forever before she answers. “Are you sure?”
My heart swells at the sheer hopefulness of her tone. “Yeah,” I say. “I’ll pay for the airfare and everything so don’t worry about that, and you could stay at the apartment, we’ve got an extra room.” It then occurs to me that she’s been really quiet. I finish lamely, “You know, if you wanted to.”
Her breathing on the other end is the only thing I can hear.
“Mom?”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Of course.”
She sniffs.
Oh man, I made my mother cry. This was not part of the plan, damn it.
“When do you want me to come?”
Relief floods my system. Breathlessly, I answer: “This Saturday, is that okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Yeah.”
“Sidney?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Warmth spreads on my cheeks. “Love you.”
“Love you too, baby.”
And with that, I hang up.
So Saturday, huh?
Barring any other disasters or incidents, Saturday should work nicely.