Page 240 of Mangled Memory
“I’m downtown. In the office. And Montana sucks this time of year.”
“I’m sure you’re right. Kick butt today.”
His voice softens as his words hit me. “Miss you, Princess. Have a great day. I’ll be home in time for dinner. Even if it’s late.”
I pull through the circular drive of my favorite coffee shop near the house. “Okay. See you tonight.”
I’ve barely hung up and placed my order when my phone rings again. “I didn’t hang up on you, did I?”
“No, sweetie. Are you okay?”
“Mom! How are you? How’s Dad?”
“Fine. I’m fine. Your father is— Well, your father is your father so…”
“Is work getting to him?” Rolling down my window, I offer my credit card to the woman who hands me my elixir of the gods. “Thank you. Have a great day.”
“Do you need to go?” Mom asks.
“No, I’m good. I’m grabbing coffee.” The attendant hands me my card and a receipt and I wave goodbye as if we’re old friends. I do stupid things before coffee. “Sorry, Mom. Go on.” I point the car toward the house.
“Why are you grabbing coffee?”
“We have either the turbo espresso thirty-five hundred or the worst coffee ever. I couldn’t manage the first and wouldn’t swallow the second. And I needed caffeine.”
“If you’re out and about, why don’t you come over?”
It takes me about two seconds. “I can do that, but don’t comment on my clothes. Or my hair. Or my… anything, okay? This was an emergency run, and I look like the Goodwill threw up all over me. You’ve been warned.”
“Gosh, I’ve missed you. Come on. I’ll put on an extra pot of coffee.”
“I have coffee in hand.” I take a sip and do all I can not to moan. I don’t resist dancing in my seat though. Delicious. Salted caramel with an extra shot. Exactly what I needed on this damp, gray morning.
“Which will be empty by the time you get here. Unless you milk it.”
“True. True.” I make the next left to head west toward my parents’ house. “You were saying something about Dad’s job.”
“The man needs Xanax. Or yoga. Or a lobotomy. His job has his face perpetually red and his blood pressure sky high.”
“That’s not good. What’s he doing to manage that?”
Her laugh verges on maniacal. “Manage it. Manage it? You know better than that. He’s doing next to nothing aside from riling himself up. He’s exhausted and trying to bring me down with him. And Ci—” She stops abruptly.
“And Ci what? Is he okay? Ellie?” I hit the brakes at a left turn lane, thinking to make an illegal U-turn and head for my brother’s when she speaks.
“Cian and your father are butting heads. And that’s putting it mildly. You know your father and not being able to control the business, or Ci, and with your situation… He’s stressed.”
“My situation?” I turn right onto their street. “I’m parking now. Be in in a second.”
I hang up and throw the car in park, trying to avoid the sour taste in my mouth that this morning will truly bring. By the time I alight, Mom is in the doorway in tailored slacks and a silk blouse. I look down at myself, maybe for the first time this morning, and feel so lacking that it almost hurts.
“Hey, Mom.” I wrap her in a hug and move through the door as she backs into the house.
“Hey, sweetie. Ready for a warm-up?” She glances at the paper cup in my hand.
“You know it.” I lift the cup to my lips and drain the dregs of syrup and coffee solids before heading to her pot and adding a bit of coffee to what’s left in the cup. One good swirl is all I have left.
I grab a mug from her cabinet and make a fresh cup before heading to the sitting room, kicking off my boots, and curling up in an oversized chair.
