“It’s nearly noon.”
“And?”
I'm about to say, “Don’t you have a job?” then stop myself. I'm mothering him.
So what? I am his mother.
Still, I hold my tongue.
“Nothing. So, tell me how’s Donna?” I ask, in an attempt to change the subject to the more neutral topic of his girlfriend.
“Fine.”
One word and I know. Something is off. “What happened?”
Daniel sighs. “We hit a rough patch.”
“Did you break up?”
“It’s a trial separation.”
The words hit me like a locomotive. There’s no way he could know they were the exact words Marco said the day after he left me.
Leftus. Me and the boys.
I never considered Marco’s insulting suggestion. By then it was beyond too little, too late. It was a slap in the face. But this is not about me. It’s about Daniel.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“Getting there. It happened a few days ago. I’m taking a personal day.”
I feel awful. Here I am wondering why he hasn’t reached out to me and he needs me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You finally took a vacation, I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“Sweetheart, you can always ruin my vacation.”
The absurdity of the words makes us both break out in laughter. “What I mean is, you can always call me, day or night. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, Mom. Thanks.”
I can hear his breathing change, like he’s holding back a sob. My heart breaks a little with him.
“How is your trip going?” Daniel asks, changing the subject once more.
“It’s been great. Seems like it’s going to be an unexpectedly extended one.”
“Why is that?”
“Well, here’s the thing. I just got fired.”
After explaining what happened with Bill, and that I already lined up something new, Daniel says, “Sounds like it's working out.” Then, “Heard you met someone.”
Apparently my boys are in touch with each other, which makes me happy.
“You’d like Adam. Butsomeoneandtheone are not necessarily the same.”