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“You think we don’t support you?”
“Peg, she thinks you don’t support her,” her father said in the background. “And right now I’m not sure she’s wrong.”
“Jimmy,” her mother breathed out, insulted. Mina’s father’s shrug was nearly audible through the cell phone.
“What if people say mean things?” her mother asked, her attention and her face turned back to the phone.
Her mom had probably seen only the blog post, where no comments were allowed.
“They’ve already said mean things. And they said mean things before the whole world knew. But they say nice things, too. I’ve been invited to be a guest speaker. I might take a break from the Russian stories and finish drawing The Adventures of Mina +. Maybe I’ll sell that and have a new book out. One with more universal appeal than the stories I draw of Russian literature. This doesn’t limit my life, Mom. Maybe to you it looks like I’m trying to cross a superhighway blindfolded, but I found a bridge. Trust me enough to walk across that bridge.”
Peace filled her as she said the words. She had drawn the comic in a fit of artistic push and made a quick decision to publish it, but it wasn’t a rash decision. Not all quick decisions were rash, and, really, not all rash decisions were bad. She wouldn’t go so far as to say that she wouldn’t go back to that moment with Chase in his dorm room and walk out when he said he didn’t have a condom, but she was pretty satisfied with her life, and she had been for a long time. If she went back in time and changed that one decision, who knows what ripple effects it would have? Not being here, in Montana, with a job that let her be both a professor and a comic artist, without Levi, without everything, didn’t seem worth the risk of taking back one poorly-thought-out decision.
“I just worry about you,” her mom repeated.
“You can still worry about me, now that my secret’s out in the open. But I’m hoping you’ll worry less.”
Her mom grunted. Actually grunted. “I probably won’t worry less. But I’ll watch my tongue when I’m talking to you. And I won’t let my worry worry you.”
“I’ll hold her to it,” yelled her dad, probably from his recliner in front of the TV.
Unable to help herself, she laughed. For a man who hated talking on the phone, he seemed to find nothing wrong with hollering into someone else’s conversation.
“Are we okay, Mom?”
“I should be the one asking that. I’m sorry for what I said. Worry is no excuse, and I wouldn’t have let it be an excuse for you. You’re a good daughter, and I’m proud of you.”
The “I just wish you’d be a little more careful” hung on the tail end of her mom’s words, but she didn’t voice them, and so all Mina said in response was “Thank you.”
“Just warn us next time.”
“I will. And I’m sorry I didn’t this time. I’ll do better.”
“Me, too. I love you.”
“I love you, too. Tell Dad I love him,” she added, after hearing her dad call out “Love you” with the television on in the background.
After hanging up, Mina took a deep breath. This part of her day was over. She might have more comments and emails to reply to, but they could wait. She was going next door to crawl into Levi’s arms.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ONLY AFTER MINA opened Levi’s front door and heard another voice did she look behind her and notice that there was a car parked on the street. Brook’s voice, so probably Brook’s car. She glanced around his living room as she tried to decide if she wanted to leave. To leave or to eavesdrop, that was the question. Perhaps a stronger person would walk into the kitchen and announce her presence, but she’d been brave enough today without facing Brook.
Some trolls were easier to face online.
“I can’t believe you’re defending that post. Telling everyone that she has AIDS. It came across my Facebook feed, and we’re not even friends. Some guy from Boise shared it.” Despite the hallway muffling Brook’s voice, Mina heard every word. And any chance of her slipping out the front door ended.
