Page 116 of That Fake Feeling
“Oh, sorry.I’mstruggling a little to process this.Couldyou please just confirm that all this semester’s classes have been paid for?”
Shehuffs. “LikeIsaid, yes.AndlikeIsaid, it’s most irregular.”
“Okay.Youhave a nice day.Thankyou.”
Istare at my screen.Azero balance on my tuition fees and a zero balance on my student loans.Outof the clear blue sky.
AuntJenplonks my coffee on the table and sits down opposite me. “Goodnessme,Nepallooks fascinating.Seeingthose photos makes me want to jump on a plane and—”
Shestops, reaches across the table, and puts her hand on my arm. “Areyou okay?”
Idrag my eyes from the screen to her concerned face.
“Heavens,” she says. “Youlook likeMaisiedoes when she’s baffled by shadows from the woodstove.”
“IthinkConnor’spaid off all my student debt and settled my tuition bill for the fall semester.”Puttingthat thought process into words sounds even more ridiculous than it did rattling around inside my head.
“Ha.”Shetakes her hand from my arm and taps her coffee cup against mine in celebration. “Well, that sounds like an enormous apology ifIever heard one.”
Idon’t need him to say sorry.AndIsure as hell don’t need any more of his money.Orany of his help. “Ican’t let him do that.Ican take care of myself.”
AuntJenpushes the lid of my laptop, snapping it shut and almost trapping my fingers.Ijump and give her my undivided attention.Whichseems to have been the point.
“Doyou thinkIcan’t make my own coffee?”Shejiggles her cup. “Doyou thinkIcan’t manage to write a shopping list to keep myself in food for more than twenty-four hours?”
“Whatare you talking about?”
“Whydo you thinkIcome to townevery day,Rose?”
“Togive you some structure?That’swhatI’veassumed, anyway.Thatsince you retired you still like to get out to do something every day.”
Shelooks at me with more seriousness thanI’veever seen in her eyes. “Oris it because no one ever matched up toEugene, soIhid myself away, never let anyone close, and nowIlive alone in a cabin in the forest?”
Shefolds her arms and rests them on the table, leaning toward me. “Icome to town every day because ifIdidn’t,Iwouldn’t see anyone.Icould be dead up there withMaisieeating my extremities and no one would find me for weeks.”
Isthat what she really thinks?Isthat how lonely she really is?Butshe always seems so happy and content.HaveIlost all ability to distinguish between what’s real and what isn’t?
“Oh, myGod,AuntJen.”
“Yourmom would not want you to end up like that.”Herfull eyes shine in the light through the window. “Andneither doI.Itold you before.Don’tbe like me,Rose.”
31
CONNOR
Thishas been one hell of a shitty day.
Thevibrant images of toys radiating happiness from my office walls can all fuck off.
Andit’s not just today, with its tedious meetings, production problems, and spelling error on the packaging for a new multiplication game.Thewhole of the last two weeks sinceRoseleft has been relentlessly shitty.
I’mstill not over the shock that she left without a word beforeIwas up.Christ, how much must she hate me to do that?
I’vejust about managed to respect her request for me not to get in touch.Butthat doesn’t meanIhaven’t written, rewritten, then deleted, several texts every day.
Payingoff her student loans and tuition doesn’t count as getting in touch, though, right?
Ifelt sure it would get a reaction.Herinnate politeness would mean she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from at least sending me a quick thank-you message.Butit’s been a week now, and nothing.
