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“About your mum?”
“Yes, Nora.” I tap my foot against the hardwood floor.
“You, Jess, queen of the repressed shit, opening up to me?”
“Yes.”
“Not the other way around?”
“No.”
“And you’re a willing participant?”
“My God, Nora…” I huff, my free arm being thrown in the air.
“Halt the presses! This truly is a momentous day.”
“I’m already changing my mind…” I shake my head, regretting all my decisions.
“No! Don’t. I’ll shut up. I’m all ears. Give it to me.” She clears her throat.
“I’m going to see her today.” I bite my bottom lip until I begin to taste metal in my mouth, “And… I don’t know how I feel.”
“Okay.”
“Well, I guess I feel… Nervous.”
“Nervous?”
“Yes.” I nod, even though she can’t see me.
“Anything… else?”
“I think not knowing how I’m going to feel when I see her is making me want to run a mile and I need you to help me not do that.” My earlier thoughts about not running away from my problems come to my mind, full force, as I admit my fear.
“Well, that is totally understandable.” She pauses, taking in a deep breath the way she always does when she’s turning on her ‘therapist’ voice. “Here’s the thing. Any reaction you have, it’s fine. I mean, maybe try to avoid flipping tables and causing any sort of violence, but anything else goes. You will feel how you feel, and it’s okay.”
I release the breath I’d been holding. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“But you can’t run this time.”
“I know.”
She pauses. “I’m very proud of you, Jess. For all of this.” Emotion laces her voice.
My heart swells at her support. “Thanks, Nor. I love you.”
“I love you too. So much.”
An unknown voice sounds out through the phone. “What self-respecting household doesn’t have eggs!”
My mouth opens on a laugh. “Is someone at the house?”
“… No,” Nora whispers, sounding flustered.
“This is the saddest fuckin’ fridge I’ve ever seen. And why do you have so much pasta…”
