"Are you sure, Mom?" I asked again.
My mother was up. Dressed. Showered even. In every way possible, her appearance was one of someone completely healthy and competent.
But I knew her and I knew that strange dullness around her eyes. "You're feeling up to watching Malcolm today?" I asked again.
"I missed my baby boy," my mother cooed, bouncing Malcolm on her hip. My little guy was watching her mouth intently with those little scholarly pursed lips he got when something caught his interest.
I jiggled my foot nervously against the floor. Leaving Malcolm with my mother when she was still fragile was a giant risk, but it was one I almost had to take. I couldn't afford to leave him with Maisie all day again. I couldn't really afford to leave him with her yesterday either. Thank God Jameson had paid her the way he did. He kind of saved my ass.
That thought made me grimace. I'd been a giant bitch to him when he was leaving and I had no idea why. I knew he was only in town for the night from the get-go, why was I giving him grief about it?
But I couldn't seem to stop myself from hurting him even as I was trying to stuff the words back into my mouth.
I snapped back to the present when I realized my mother had said something. "What was that? I'm sorry, Mom."
My mother shifted Malcolm over to her other hip. "I said I've already called Dr. Kaza," she said tiredly.
I nodded encouragingly. "That's good, I'm proud of you."
She looked down at the floor. "Well, you shouldn't be. It's my responsibility to monitor my moods."
"But the meds are hard to adjust to, and you know that."
She shook her head and looked up at me plaintively. "I hate this, Charlotte," she sighed, blinking and looking up at the ceiling. "I just want to be normal."
"Hey," I said, going to her immediately. "You are normal. Everyone's got their something, right?"
"I don't know about that."
"Well, it's true. And some people don't try to do anything to make their something better. But you do."
"I hate taking those pills. They make me feel so numb."
I swallowed hard. Ever since she'd started the medication for her bipolar disorder, she'd said the same thing. I put my hand on her shoulder and tried to smile. "If you were diabetic, you'd take pills to help your pancreas work better. You're taking pills to make your brain work better. Same thing, Mom."
Her lashes fluttered and she looked away from me. "You're a good kid," she whispered.
"You're a good Mom." I tickled Malcolm under the chin. "And a good MomMom." I turned and grabbed my purse. "I have to run to the post office to pay for some money orders. I have my cell, if you need anything, call me. I'll be home normal time tonight."
"Stop worrying, honey. I'm fine."
I bit my lip. I hated not trusting her like this. "Okay," I said with a smile. "If you say so."
"I do. Listen to your mother."
"Since when?" I laughed and bent down to kiss her cheek. "You be good for MomMom," I told Malcolm.
"Good MomMom," he repeated, making us both laugh.
No screaming, not tantrums, no wrestling his unwilling little body into the car seat. What a difference it was walking out of my house this morning and knowing that Malcolm was home, with the person he loved best in the world...second to me of course. I should have felt lighter, but that strange heaviness that had settled around my shoulders when Jameson walked out the door still weighed on me.
"Charlie! Holy crap girl, where've you been?"
I laughed and turned around to see Bee, my neighbor two doors down. "I could say the same to you!' I called. "Have you turned into a vampire yet?"
Bee mimed hissing at the sun. "Baker's hours," she sighed with a yawn. "I forget what daylight looks like."
"What are you doing out today?" I grinned slyly at her. "Are you playing hooky with your men?"
Bee winced and laughed. "Ssshh," she hissed, looking around wildly.
"Nobody on this block cares that you're in a threesome," I reminded her. "They've got bigger things to worry about."
She bit her lip. "Well then...yeah. We're playing hooky."
I grinned. Bee was the one who got me the job at Indigo in the first place. I wasn't about to judge her relationship with my bosses, not when she'd been such a good friend to me. "Well do me a favor and make sure Finn and Jackson are in good moods when they come in today," I said with a yawn. "I had a late night last night."
"Oh?" She wiggled her eyebrows.
I felt my cheeks redden. "It's not what you think. I mean, yeah it is a little, but then Malcolm got sick and we had to come home."
"Are you going to see this mystery guy again?" Bee asked excitedly. She knew about my dry spell. "Come by the bakery. I'll give you both free chocolates. It's an aphrodisiac you know."
I laughed. "No, he was only in town for the night," I sighed.
"Oooh, a quickie, very nice."
"Yeah." Too quick.
"Hey, you should stop by the bakery anyway. When you get off work you know," Bee added. "You know I'm over there working when you guys close, right? I see you almost every night."
I pressed my lips together. "I know. It's hard though. I usually have to hurry home."
She shook her head. "I'm not talking about anything longer than stopping in and saying hello, Charlie," she chided gently. "You have time for that, don't you?"
"Of course," I said brightly. "Sorry."
She grinned and waved goodbye before rushing back up the stairs to her house. I thought I caught a glimpse of Jackson, the chef at Indigo, catching her up in his arms before the door shut behind her.
I stood there feeling strangely adrift. Bee was the closest thing I had to a girlfriend, but I kept blowing her off like that. What did it matter that I took five minutes to stop in and say hi while she was working? Why did I always feel like I had to hurry back home? Why did I purposefully spend so much time alone?
I didn't spend last night alone, I reminded myself. I went out with a hot stranger and had the best sex of my life.
Yeah and look what happened to Malcolm when you did?
Inwardly I winced. He's fine, I argued with myself. It was just one of those weird kid-things. It could have happened any night.
No, that voice in my head insisted. It happened because you weren't there to take care of it. You were out fucking around like you used to. Being careless and slutty. Malcolm getting sick was your fault. Your punishment.
Angrily I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood. I yanked open my car door and jammed the key into the ignition. "Don't you fucking pull this shit," I growled at my car when the engine shuddered and ground to a halt. I slammed my foot down on the accelerator and twisted the key again, forcing an alarming screech from the starter before it finally caught, probably out of sheer terror.
Muttering to myself, I drove over to the post office and stood in line with the rest of the poor people who couldn't afford checking accounts. As I stood there, the image of Jameson handing Maisie five hundred dollars just as casually as can be played over and over in my brain. "Fucking asshole," I seethed, though I wasn't exactly sure what I was mad at. He'd only given me one of the most fun and carefree nights of my life and he hadn't asked for anything in return. It wasn't like he wanted anything from me. He didn't even want to be part of my life.
Maybe that's why I'm mad.
I'm mad because he's gone.