Page 99 of Broken Grump

She doesn’t like being ignored.

“Hello?”

“Adriana?”

“Yeah.” My teeth grit. It’s annoying that she used my first name, and that she sounds confused about whoshecalled.

“Oh. Hello. It’s your mother.”

I’m aware.

Without hesitating, she says, “I want to meet. Just the two of us. I can reserve a table down at Benito’s.”

I bite my tongue.Of course, you don’t understand that I have a small daughter at home who is asleep.When I was seven, she’d just leave me home alone for hours on end.

“Hello? Are you still there?”

“Yeah, Mom. I can’t meet you anywhere. Luna is asleep.”

“Pfft.” I can practically hear her flicking her wrist on the other line. “You can leave her for a bit.”

“No. No, I can’t. That’s incredibly dangerous.”And you should know.I almost burned down our house when I tried making spaghetti one night when she was out late with coworkers.

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll come to you.”

“No—” I check my watch and see that it’s already 10:30 p.m.

“See you soon.” After that, the call drops.

Dammit!

Then, I’m left to rush inside and do my best to tidy up. The place is already clean, but her judgment knows no bounds.

Shit!I know she’ll have comments about how I “let myself go” if I’m still in my comfy robe. So I scurry out of it and make the rash decision to put a suit jacket over my old Ramone’s shirt. I also slick my hair back into a bun.

“Good enough,” I say, scanning myself in the long mirror hanging from my closet door.

A few minutes later, I’m about to call her back and ask her not to ring the doorbell, but she does before I can help it.

Ugh.There’s yet another maternal thing you thought she would’ve caught onto, having a child herself.

“Mommy?” Luna calls out.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s just grandma. Go back to sleep.”

I’ve never said bad things about my mother to her. But she has, nevertheless, resolved on her own that Grandma Rosalinda isn’t someone to play with. So, I know Luna won’t come out of her room while she’s still here.

Alas, she rings the bell one more time, and I run over to answer the door.

“Mother,” I say emotionlessly.

Her nose is held up in the air, and she’s looking me up and down. “Hello.”

I step aside and hold my arm out. “Please, come in. Won’t you?”

As predicted, she shutters as she walks through the door and glances around. “Hmph.” She runs her fingers along a table in the foyer and then looks at it.

Oh, shut up. I know for certain there isn’t any dust there.

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