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“So, we get you furniture,” he states. But it’s not that simple.
“I have enough money to pay the rent, but I can’t swing buying furniture too,” I say, distressed.
“Don’t worry about it now.” He pulls me into an embrace. “We need to celebrate. Dinner later?”
“I can’t. I’m working tonight.”
“When are you going to quit that awful job?” He lets me go as his menacing words spill out.
Whoa, mood swing. He looks angry.
“Um, I don’t know. I guess when I start the NOAA job. Maybe sooner. I don’t want to have to commute that far,” I say bemused.
“Good, I don’t like you working there,” he says with chilling finality.
What??
“Why not? It’s a good job. It pays the bills at least.” What the hell is wrong with him?
“I just don’t,” he almost growls.
Jeez.
“Well since I’ll be moving in a few days, it seems it’s a moot point anyway,” I snap back.
“Good,” he says. “I need to get back to work. I’ll look over the lease and call you later if I need anything.” He’s still annoyed.
“Okay.” He gives me a chaste kiss, and heads back into his building. I just stand there stunned. What the fuck was that? I’m not sure how to react to that display of oppression. I walk back to where my car is parked. Once inside, I find a good station on Pandora and head home.
I call Brenda and fill her in on all of the details concerning my new place. She’s in shock as well. At least she offers to help me move, although, I don’t have much to move with.
Now, the job of telling my mother. It will be tricky. I need to remind her that I’m a grown woman and need my own space without making her feel like I’m abandoning her
. I decide that now is as good a time as any, and I make my way downstairs knowing I can’t escape the inevitable. I find her on the couch watching reruns of The West Wing. That was one of my dad’s favorite shows.
“Mom, I have something I need to tell you,” I start.
“Can it wait?”
“No, not really.”
She hits pause on the remote and turns her attention to me. “Okay, what’s so important?”
“I rented an apartment.” I am trying to keep my tone casual.
“Oh?” she replies, her voice squeaky with surprise. Now I’ve got her attention. “Where?”
“Manhattan. It’s closer to my new job.”
“But . . . you’re just starting that job . . . isn’t it a little soon to be looking at apartments?” Her face is twisted into a deep frown.
“No, not really. Besides, it was too good of a deal to pass up,” I say. “I’ll be moving out by the end of the week.”
“You can’t move to the city. It’s too far,” she whines. Here we go. I knew this would be a hard square to circle. She’s going to try and guilt me into staying, or at least moving somewhere closer. I won’t let her.
“Mom, it’s not even an hour away. I’ll be here all the time, you’ll see,” I soothe.
“You have that fear of bridges. You shouldn’t drive over them every day.” She tries to reason with me. I do hate going over bridges, but as long as I don’t look down, I’m fine.
