Page 58 of The Laughing Game

“I would love to, but I promised my mother I’d pay her a visit,” I said.

“Oh!” Gideon said, “Where does she live?”

“In a very expensive retirement home in the West End,” I said. “She says she loves it. But her memory’s going.” I shrugged and turned to Vihaal. “Did you ask your manager about the financial records?”

“Not yet. But after I drop you off at the retirement home, I’m going to pay a visit to my store. Dominic should be there, and I will bring it up with him. See what his explanation is.”

“Oh, you don’t have to drive me. I can get an Uber.”

“Nonsense. Gideon, are you coming or do you want to stay here?”

“Well, if it’s not shopping, I’d just as well stay home, if you don’t mind. But pleasedosay hi to Dominic for me,” Gideon muttered in a sardonic tone.

* * * *

I loved my mom, and she’d been a pretty cool person twenty years ago. She had control of most of her mental faculties—enough to keep her off the Memory Floor, at least for now.

Her short-term recall was hit and miss, and I found myself answering the same question several times, which wasn’t that big of a deal. And she could surprise me. I’d be having what I’d thought was a casual conversation and she’d pick up on something important. Like today.

“So, what’s the deal on the romantic partner front? Anything for me to get excited about?” she asked with a steadfast seriousness that made me sit up straighter.

“What? No!”

“Huh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

“Seems strange that you date all these women but none ever sticks. I just wonder sometimes…”

“Mom. Seriously. Are you kidding me?”

“So you still haven’t found anyone?”

“Well no. Not exactly.”

“Not exactly? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Oh my God, Mom! Do you talk like that in here?”

“I say what the fuck I want, if that’s what you mean. I’m not gonna start pussyfooting around just because I’m locked up in a place with do-gooders.”

“You’re not locked up, Mom. You can come and go as you please.”

“So you say. You know how bad my legs are, Angel,” she said, giving me a sad look.

“You’ve got your walker. And I keep asking if you want me to arrange for a scooter.”

“Hmph. A hazard, those things. I almost got mowed down in the hallway the other day. Some of these people don’t know how to fucking drive.”

“Mom, come on,” I said, sitting on the edge of the bed by the chair she was in. “You shouldn’t be swearing.”

“Angel,” she said, leveling a look at me. “It’s one of the few joys I have left.”

I grinned, because, yeah, she was hilarious when she was feeling punchy.

She narrowed her eyes. “Now, back to what I asked you. What do you mean, not exactly?”

“Oh.”Fuck.“Well, I just meant to say no. No, I don’t have a steady girlfriend.”

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