Page 3 of Mayhem and Minnie

I leave a hundred-dollar bill at the receptionist’s office and stride out of the building without a backward glance.

Pity. I thought we were making some progress. But it seems it might be time to seek out another therapist.

Grabbing my car keys out of my pocket, I head to the parking lot and get in my car.

The therapy session lasted exactly fifteen minutes. And in those fifteen minutes, my car was entirely covered in snow.

I hate snow.

While I wait for the obnoxious substance to melt from my hood, I check my phone.

Six missed calls. From my mother.

I groan aloud.

I know better than not to return her calls.

Clearing my voice, I dial her number.

“Marlowe, dear. Why did you not answer when I called?”

“I was busy, Mom,” I add drily.

“Doing what? We all know you’re not doing much with your life,” she chides in that motherly tone of hers.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom. What would I do without your precious advice?”

“I’m serious, dear. You’re always cooped up in that house of yours. When is the last time you’ve had fun?”

“It’s a very nice house,” I mumble.

“I didn’t ask whether your house is nice or not. Although that’s good to know since you won’t allow any of us to visit you?—”

“Mom, you get one visit from me a year. Be thankful.”

“But it’s not enough,” she whines.

I can imagine her pout. She always pouts.

“It’s enough for me.”

She tsks.

“Why can’t you be more like your older brother? He loves coming over, and not only once a year.”

“Because my brother is a wimp who needs your constant supervision to do anything. I do not.”

“Yes, yes. I know you’ve always been so independent. But would it cost you much to come visit more than once a year? I do miss you a lot.”

“We talk daily,” I remind her.

“But it’s been a year since I’ve last hugged you!” she exclaims. “Talking is not a substitute for physical interaction. Or is it that you’ve found someone?” Her tone becomes excited. “You’ll finally give me grandkids?”

I hate hugs. And physical interaction.

“Mom,” I groan. “Can we not do this right now?”

“If not now then when? I was hoping you’d bring someone special to the party and?—”

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