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ChapterTwo
Sanford
It’s too earlyin the fucking morning when the shrill intrusion of my phone cuts through my sleep and the silence of my room.Half-dazed, I reach for my phone and squint at the caller ID, which unapologetically announces,Mom.
Letting out a groan, I reluctantly swipe to answer, muttering an unenthusiastic, “Morning, Mom.”
“Sanford, sweetheart, how are you?How’s work?Are you taking care of yourself?”Her questions don’t surprise me.It’s a well-rehearsed script, one she recites almost every week, twice during winter.
“Mom, I’m fine,” I reply, my voice rough with remnants of sleep, attempting to sound more awake than I feel.
“I know what ‘fine’ means, Sanford.It means everything’s falling apart, but you’re too stubborn to admit it.You sound off.What’s going on?”she prods, her voice still going a mile per hour, but taking on a more serious tone.
“Mom, I promise, I’m alright.And, of course I sound off.You just woke me up,” I complain with gruff frustration.
She should know better than calling me at five in the fucking morning.I curse the day when she decided to move to New Mexico and changed time zones.It’s just one hour, but she uses it as an excuse to call at any time.
“Over-sleeping is a symptom of depression, dear.I read it just yesterday in one of Dr.Peterson’s health magazines,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Your acupuncturist isn’t a doctor, Mom,” I retort, trying to reason with her.
I love this woman with all my heart, but fuck if she can be too much to handle.I put an arm over my eyes, hoping this is it and she’s about to say goodbye.If I’m lucky, I can sleep for another two hours, but with her, I’m neverthat lucky.
“We’ll agree to disagree,” she counters with finality.The lady has spoken, and I better keep my mouth shut.“So, how are things with you and ...who are you currently dating?I haven’t seen you in any magazine lately.”
I groan because she’s back to nagging me about my dating life—or lack of it.When will she start to respect my boundaries?The time I went out with some celebrity to an award show, she was already asking me for her phone number and wondering if we would be eloping or having a big wedding.
It was just a setup.I don’t date.But, of course she only hears what is convenient.I know that when I say out loud “I’m currently single” she only hears white noise.
There’s a long silence before she says, “It’s been years since ...well, you should be moving on, Sanford,” she suggests, a tone of hopeful anticipation creeping in her voice.“There are these new dating apps, you know.Or, maybe Susan, my hairdresser—”
“I don’t need a dating app or your hairdresser, Mom,” I cut her off, threading my fingers through my disheveled hair.
“I was going to mention Susan’s daughter.Sweetheart, you’re not getting any younger.I need grandchildren,” she shoots back with a sigh, the underlying note of concern weaving through her words.I can almost picture her sitting in her kitchen, sipping on her morning coffee, the furrow in her brow deepening as she worries over my future.
I finally drag myself out of bed and slip on a pair of shorts.My bare feet pad against the cool hardwood floor as I make my way to the kitchen.“Listen, some people are not meant to have a permanent relationship or children.I’m probably one of them.”
A whispery sigh filters through the line.“You’re closing yourself off, Sanford.Stop building walls around your heart.It’s unhealthy,” she chokes out, her voice teetering on the edge of tears.“I understand they were important to you, but it’s over, and you have to move on.”
Did she actually just tell me to move on?
How many times have I told everyone that I’m past the tragedy that tore us apart?
I’m over it.I choose to be alone because I can’t imagine loving anyone else.I gave them everything.My heart was welded to theirs.Our union was permanent, even when we never signed papers that said we belonged to each other.
A heavy sigh escapes my lips.“Mom, why don’t you focus on your other children?I’m doing fine.”
“But, San—”
“Hey, Mom, I got another call coming through.Can we catch up later?”I say, disconnecting immediately.
I hate to cut the conversation short, but I can’t keep discussing my future with her.It’s daunting, and ...well, I can’t make her understand that I’m content with how things are.I go out on dates just to appease my family and friends, but things just never work out, and I’m totally fine with it.
There are times when I feel alone, but it’s when I miss them.For the most part, I’ve made peace with my life.I accept who I am.
Before tucking my phone away, I’m pulled toward the photo gallery where I have pictures of them, of us.My fingertips graze the cold screen, lighting up a memory.An old photograph of us—smiling, radiant, ensnared in our bubble.It was one of those rare occasions when we had time off and decided to go to the Deckers’ private island.It was just the three of us, sharing everything.Our hearts, our souls ...us.
The outside didn’t matter.They were once my entire universe, my existence.
