Page 26 of The Job

“Hey, Mom,” Cash says, doing a good job of sounding relaxed and not stressed about the situation at all.

“Cash,” she greets, “why did it take you so long to answer the phone?”

Before Cash can answer we hear Cash’s dad Marc yell in the background, “He didn’t take long, you are worrying for nothing! Leave the poor kid alone.”

Chapter Sixteen

Cash

Ichuckle, I do love my dad. He has successfully distracted my mom and saved me from having to come up with a reply which would have meant that I wasn’t lying. I try not to lie to my parents too often if I can help it. I lie to them far more often than I actually want to.

“Sorry baby,” mom says. “What I meant to say was, are you okay and having a nice time?”

I laugh again, “Yeah, Mom, we are all good; we’re just listening to music.”

“Okay, well, make sure you get some sleep soon. I know you don’t have school at the moment, but if you get your sleep schedule out of whack now, you are going to find it harder to get back into the routine of school when you go back.”

The guys laugh this time.

“Kat, you have been telling us that every summer since we started school,” Riot points out fondly.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that it has now become one of those things that we will be saying to our own kids at this point,” Jensen adds.

She laughs, “Well, I just want to make sure that you guys get enough sleep. Besides, am I wrong?”

“No, Mom, you’re not,” I reply honestly.

“Well then,” she says proudly and then adds, “hi boys, are you all okay?”

“We’re good,” Trick replies with a smile.

“Are you having a good time mom?” I ask, and then add, “how’s dad?”

“I’m good!” Dad yells, “I’m waiting for your mother to hurry up so we can go dancing.”

I smile, “Sorry, Dad, we’ll go.”

“Don’t you dare,” Mom says and then shouts to my dad, “you can wait. I’m talking to my baby.”

“Mom, really, It’s okay,” I reply, knowing that I need her to want to end this conversation pretty quickly because we’re in a car following some dangerous guy, and we are most likely going to have to get out and do something when he stops, and that something is probably not something that my mom is going to need to hear.

“No, I want to talk to you. I feel like we have been gone for ages,” Mom replies.

“It’s only been a few days,” I remind her, “you will be back in three days, which is not long at all. Are you having fun?” I ask her again, since dad distracted her the first time and she didn’t answer.

She becomes animated, and less in mom mode as she replies, “Yes, it’s been lovely to get away. We had dinner at thisgorgeous little Italian bistro place, and they were actually really authentic.”

Mom is a bit of a snob when it comes to Italian food, whereas Dad, who is half Italian and half American, really couldn’t care so long as it tastes good. It has been an amusing argument between them for as long as I can remember.

“That’s good,” I reply. I’m trying to keep my tone light, but I am aware that any minute now the guy we are following could turn off or stop and then we’re in trouble. If I end the conversation quickly mom is going to become suspicious.

“We went to see loads of sights, too,” she continues, entirely in the swing of storytelling mode now. “There was this amazing bookshop, not in the touristy part of town, that I bought some books from. We spent hours there, and I picked up gifts for the others as well.”

She just carry’s on talking and telling me all about what they have been up to, and while I listen and hum in all the right places, I share a concerned look with the others. We are all aware of how long my mom can talk for when she gets going.

I’m trying to think of a way to get her off the phone without her getting offended and realizing that’s what I’m trying to do. If I say anything that sounds vaguely like a problem, then she is going to panic and send some of the other parents over to check on us just to be safe, as she likes to call it.

I have got to be really careful about how I get her to go. The last thing that we need is for her to be worried.

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