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“Everyone does it these days, Mom. I’m a freelance consultant. I make my own hours and work wherever there’s a good connection.” I turned off the stove and opened the lid to check on the eggs. They were done.
“And what about, you know…the thing.”
She never called it the curse. It was alwaysthe thing.
“Oh, you know. Still here. But I’ll be fine. How about you?” I asked before she started worrying too much about the curse and the way it was fucking up my life.
She was a good mother. When my father first left to protect us from his out-of-control snake, he’d randomly deposit money into their joint bank account every so often. This went on for years, until I was about ten or eleven. Then, one day, the deposits just stopped.
Mom had taken extra shifts at work to keep us afloat. She worked her ass off and had only slowed down after I grew up and was financially independent. Now it was my turn to send her money, but she refused to stop working.
“I’m fine,” she said. “The usual. Oh! I started Zumba again.”
“That’s good,” I said absently. We both knew how that was going to go. She’d quit in a few weeks, and the extra credits she bought at the gym would sit there in her account, languishing until they expired.
Years of prioritizing raising me meant she’d let her body go. There was no time for the gym or home-cooked meals when she was working three jobs. I was just glad she was trying to be healthy now that I was on my own.
“You know you don’t have to go through this alone, like your fath—”
“Mom, stop.”
“No. You need to hear this, Zayn. You’re not alone. I know you were hoping to save up enough for a place out in the country, but I’ve been checking property prices lately. You’ll need help to afford anywhere decent. I’ve been working hard. We can pool our resources and—”
“And what?” I demanded, my tone too loud and angry, even to me. I softened my voice. “Pool our resources and what? Get a place out in the country? So you can be separated from all your friends?” She could finally have those now that she had a life and wasn’t just thinking about me all the time. “What about the gym? Your book club? And what happens when I shift? My snake is uncontrollable. You’re human.”
“I’m your mother! I’ve seen your snake before.”
Yes. But only when I was young. My snake had been manageable back then. Then I avoided shifting around her once I realized it made her nervous. She didn’t know what a monster I was now, and I didn’t want her to find out.
“I don’t want to fight, Mom. Let’s drop this, okay?” I was tired. “I’m just happy you called.”
“Okay. Come visit when you can.”
“I will.” Another lie. I didn’t trust my snake not to go on a rampage in the middle of New York City. Can you imagine? It’d be all over the news.
“I love you, Zayn.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
I hung up and closed my eyes, sighing deeply. I hated that I was putting her through this. It was bad enough when it happened with Dad. It wasn’t fair that we were still being punished for something my grandfather had done.
I needed air. I tossed my phone onto the couch, ambled over to the screen door, and stepped out onto my balcony. I sucked in a deep breath and then slowly exhaled, counting to ten.
Sudden movement from the next balcony had me looking over. Sybil was on a galaxy print yoga mat, her ass facing me in downward dog. I couldn’t help it, I gawked at the teal and black tentacle print leggings that hugged her behind perfectly.
She stuck her leg up in the air and transitioned into pigeon pose. I only knew the names because I’d tried to pick up yoga to calm my mind and possibly have an edge over my snake. Much good that did.
Bending her back leg, she twisted around to face it and caught me staring at her.
Aw, shit. Busted.
It was too late to look away, so I waved my fingers at her. “Hi.”
She tapped her ear twice, then frowned. “Give me a second.” She tapped her ear again and waited for a moment before plucking out her ear buds. “Sorry about that. The music’s supposed to stop playing when I double tap, but it’s a little glitchy sometimes.”
If she was out here listening to music, maybe she’d missed my snake’s rampage.
She tucked the tiny devices into a pocket in her leggings and sat facing me in a cross-legged position. “Lemme guess,” she said, eyeing me up and down. “Doing laundry again?”
