Page 60 of King of Pain
Murph: You too, brother.
I set my phone down, leaning back against the couch. I’m not sure why Murph is bringing up Christian. If he knew anything, he’d just call me out. Murph’s blunt like that. Really doesn’t matter anymore. Christian and I are done.
Ma’s safe. That’s all that matters.
I decide to text her directly. It feels good to hear from her, especially now that the holidays are coming up.
Me: Hey, Ma. How’s everything?
It only takes her a few minutes to reply.
Ma: Hi, baby! Everything’s fine here. What about you? Are you taking care of yourself?
Me: Yeah, I’m good. Things still calm with him? What about Thanksgiving? You’re not doing all that cooking for just him, are you?
There’s a brief but weighted pause. Holidays were always the worst with my father.
Ma: No, I’m not, and don’t worry about him. I have no plans to be alone with him. One of his officers invited us to Thanksgiving dinner, and I refused to cook this year anyway since you’re not here.
Relief washes over me.
Me: That’s a good idea. He won’t show his ass in front of other people.
Ma: Exactly. What about you? What are you doing for Thanksgiving?
I glance toward the kitchen, where Ant’s handwritten menu is stuck to the fridge. The thought of spending the day with him and a few friends has me feeling something I don’t quite know how to name yet.
During my last Sunday call with Ma, I talked about Ant and how he’s staying with me. Probably not my smartest move on a video call. I’m pretty sure she saw right through me.
Me: Ant decided we’re doing Friendsgiving. He’s cooking up a whole feast, like, a ridiculous spread, Ma. Turkey, Italian stuffing, lasagna, all kinds of stuff.
Ma: Ooh, that sounds amazing. You’re lucky to have someone like that around.
Me: I know. I was just going to do takeout.
Ma: Well, it sounds like he saved you from yourself. So, how’s school going? Are you still liking your art classes?
I think of my last conversation with my instructor, who seems genuinely impressed by my work. I’m not used to compliments, and his encouragement has been a nice boost.
Me: Yeah, actually. Mateo, my instructor, says he’s impressed with my work. He says I have real potential.
Ma: Ooh, Mateo. Sounds swarthy.
I groan, rolling my eyes at my phone.
Me: Oh my God, Ma. I can’t believe you just said that.
Ma: What? Is he not handsome?
I sigh, knowing exactly what she’s doing and where this is going.
I send her the ‘IT’S A TRAP’ GIF fromStar Wars.
Ma:Answer the question.
Me: I mean, yeah, he’s attractive. But I have zero interest.
Her reply is wicked fast and strikes the target with precision.
