“I’m really fine, Mom,” she said when Catherine paused for breath.“There’s no crisis.I just… acted impulsively.”
“Impulsively?”Catherine echoed.“You boarded a plane to Chicago without telling your boss, your partner, or your mother.That’s not impulsive, Kitty.That’s—”
“—manageable,” Kate said firmly, before Catherine could supply a more accurate, more damning adjective.“There’ll be some blowback.But nothing I can’t handle.”
“Okay.”
It was remarkable how much skepticism her mother could pack into two syllables.And it was justified.Kate was very possibly out of a job.
Kate swallowed.“Really.It’s under control.”
“You don’t sound under control.”
“I’m just tired,” she lied, very smoothly.
Catherine said nothing.The silence hummed between them—soft but perceptive, the kind of silence that let Kate know her mother didn’t believe a word of it but was choosing, mercifully, not to dig.For now.
“Actually,” Kate pivoted, grasping for safer territory, “I went by the old house.”
“Well, I didn’t imagine you went all that way for the trout, honey.”
Kate suppressed a smile.“I met the family who live there now.The Kingsleys.Sweet people.Kind.And their little girl, Claudette—she’s adorable.Smart, serious.The kind of kid who studies you before deciding what she thinks.”
Catherine exhaled gently.“I’m glad there’s nice people there now.The guy who bought it off us was a Grade A turd.”
Kate laughed, involuntarily.“They gave me a tour.Inside the house.The backyard.The tree I used to climb.”
“And the treehouse?”
“Gone,” Kate said.“But I suspect little Miss Claudette will be lobbying strongly for a replacement.”
"Ah yes.Pester power.That wasn't a thing when I was growing up.For Christmas, I'd get an orange, some socks, and a nickel.”
Kate raised her eyebrows.“Yep and Dad’s family was so poor they had meatloaf shaped like a turkey.”
There was a fragile comfort in trundling over these old, well-worn anecdotal ruts—like lowering herself into water that was exactly body-temperature, not warm enough to melt her guard, not cold enough to bite.
“Well,” Catherine said, “at least one part of your day was nice.The Forest Suites, less so, I’m guessing.”
“If they gave out minus stars,” Kate echoed with a smile.“They’d have five.”
“Are you safe?”
Kate hesitated.Not long—less than a heartbeat—but Catherine must have felt it through the line.
“I’m safe,” she said, leaning into the lie more than she meant to.“I promise.”
Another pause.Then her mother said, very softly,
"All right.Tell me again tomorrow."
It was the closest Catherine ever came to saying,I know you’re not telling me everything, but I’ll take what you can give me for now.
“I love you,” Kate murmured.
“And I love you.Go to sleep.”
Kate hung up, staring at the phone a moment longer.
