Page 83 of Dirty Little Secret
Shaking my head, I picked up my glass. “You’re a kid. You can’t understand this at all.”
“I’m a kid?” she asked, looking injured as she put her hand to her throat. “I can understand things, Zandy. I’m not a moron, but I’m beginning to think you might be.” She looked up as if listening to someone else. “No, strike that. You’re not a moron. What you are is so much worse than that. You’re inconsiderate. You’re unappreciative. And I can’t believe I have to say this to you, as I’ve never thought this way about you until right now, but you’re uncaring. You don’t care that your leaving will kill that little boy. You don’t care that your leaving will wound Kane. You just don’t care.” And with that, she turned and left me sitting there as she cried all the way back to her room, where she slammed the door shut behind her.
I didn’t know how to react. And I didn’t have anyone around to react to.
So I went to my bedroom and fell asleep. I slept for hours and hours, and only woke up because of the sound of my cell phone going off. It was the ringtone I’d set to Fox’s name.
Picking it up, I fought against the pain in my pounding head. “Stupid wine.” I swiped the screen. “Hi, Fox.”
“Hi, Mom. It’s Friday, and I know you’re busy at work, but it’s nine fifteen and Aunt Nancy’s not gonna let me stay up much longer, so I called you to say goodnight.”
Kane hasn’t told him.
“Oh. Well, I’m not at work. I stayed home,” I said as I rubbed my temple to help stop the headache. “I’m glad you called. I was asleep. I’m, uh, sick.”
“Gosh, I hope you’re better by Sunday when I get back home. I want to tell you all about my weekend adventure with Aunt Nancy and Uncle James.”
He’s got plans with me already.
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t tell him that I wouldn’t be there. I couldn’t tell him that I would be leaving as soon as I could.
“Mom?”
“Um, I’ll see if I’m feeling better by then, Fox,” I had no idea what else to say.
“If you’re not better by then, can I come over to see you?” he asked, sounding a little worried.
“We’ll see.” I chewed my lower lip.
“I hope so.” He waited a beat. “I love you, Mom. Goodnight. I hope you get better soon.”
“I love you too. Goodnight.” I ended the call and the tears flooded my eyes once more.
What am I going to do?
