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Gracefully, I guide her over the wooden flooring and out through the French doors.
With every step, I reminisce on the other times I went out to the veranda, which was to call Elias.
Once was all it took to learn that I had been blocked.
And immediately after?
Well, that’s when the madness commenced.
I spiraled under my breath while attempting to call again from my mother’s phone – just to confirm it wasn’t my cell being weird.
Third call attempt, I used our house phone.
Fourth call, Dad’s.
Increased panic had me picturing Tomas somehow planting a cellphone blocker in his place to prevent us from being able to communicate.
Reconnect.
Fifth and sixth call…led to me realizing I’m in the worst-case scenario.
He changed his personal number.
Severed all ties.
Gave up all hope for us.
I stop walking, slinking around the edge of the living room to open the front door, struggling not to trip over my own dragging feet in the process.
“Aw, can you feel it?” Mom happily hums, face tilted toward the sky to indulge in what I presume are sweet sunrays. “Can you really feel it?”
The loneliness?
The sadness?
The inability to go on like that girl from Titanic didn’t want to?
Yeah.
I can and do totally feel it.
“Zel?”
“Oh, yeah,” my inflection is lifeless while my focus stays planted on how easily she wheels herself the remainder of the way. “Beautiful day.”
“Zel!”
The viciousness of her snip lifts my eyes to hers. Without further warning, a tornado of English and Spanish descend on me causing my eyes to widen. Between her harsh words – some of which I haven’t heard leave her lips in years – and displeased tone, it’s more than evident she’s had her fill of my sour mood.
Honestly?
She’s not the only one.
Finally, I find the smallest pause to propel myself into the conversation. “Mom, I’m not-”
“Lie to me again, and I will pull you over my knee to punish you like I did when you were seven and refused to tell the truth about how gum got in your hair.”
Well, I couldn’t tell her the boy I liked put it there!
