Page 98 of Unbreakable Love

And then I texted my sister.

Gavin is telling Josie about us tonight.

Rock on. About time.

I rolled my eyes. Did no one seem to realize how new this was? It wasn’t us together, it was the speed we were moving, the quickness with which we were falling.

That was what concerned me for Josie’s sake.

My phone pinged again, and I glanced down.

You’re nervous for nothing and I can tell so don’t say you aren’t. It’ll be fine. Josie adores you.

I adore her.

Which is why this is good. Put down your dust rag and relax.

I glanced at the rags on my counter and my vacuum I hadn’t yet put away.

How’d you know?

I got an eye roll response.

By the way, you heard from Mom lately?

No. Why?

When it came to Mom, no news was usually good news. Hearing from her meant she needed help. But Maize rarely asked about her.

Because it’s the holidays and she always hits you up for money this time of year.

Not true.

Bullshit. Stop giving it to her, especially now that you don’t need to take care of me.

True to her word, I’d received an email from her university saying I should receive a return for the winter tuition I’d already paid before Maize switched over her finances with them. It was going to be thousands of dollars I got back, and it’d help me immensely. I could finally look for a new car, one that wasn’t a decade-plus-old and that could handle the snow better than my tiny Sentra.

But this was Mom. Our mom. And while Maize and I never seemed to agree on the kind of mom she was, she was still the only mom we had.

I don’t think we should talk about this.

That’s because you know I’m right, and before we get into an argument, consider this. Think of Jenny, or even Faye and Dolly. Would they treat their kids like Mom treats us? And do you think they’d ever ask, and demand, money from their kids? I know you love her, but taking care of her isn’t your job, either. Not when she doesn’t give back.

Before I could text her back, argue with her, although in this case, she was probably right, she texted again.

I love you, that’s all, and I don’t want you taken advantage of because you’re so kind. I’ll get back to studying and let you go back to stress cleaning.

I snorted.

Love you, Maize.

Always and to the moon.

I reread her texts and replayed the hundreds of conversations about Mom we’d had and ended up disagreeing on. She was right, to an extent, but she was our mom.

If she needed help, it wasn’t my place to deny her if there was a chance she could someday figure out a way to take better care of herself. That was why I did what I did because I still held hope. Until the time came that hope withered and died, I didn’t mind clinging to it.

Even if she wasn’t going to win any Great Mother of the Year awards.

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