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20. Triggered
Jules
A sense of sadness roils through me as I watch Cash disappear down the alley. The rain is a ruckus on the awning over the vestibule. Normally, the cacophony of water hitting the metal soothes me, but I can’t displace this feeling of unease I’ve had since Cash opened my door to Chris, and I realized my ex had gone back on his promise to remain sober.
I go back inside and that’s when my cell goes off. I reach for my phone, expecting a call from Les since she’s been calling almost every night to chat about one thing or another—usually the band or the funny shit her customers say. It’s her way of checking on me.
But it’s not Les.
“Hi, Dad,” I say, closing and locking the door behind me.
“Hey, Jules. How’re things going? Still loving your job?”
“Things have been good. And yes, working at MontBlake is amazing.”
“I can’t tell you how proud of you I am.”
I don’t miss how he didn’t say we.
“Thank you.” Opening the freezer, I finger through my options for dinner. Turkey, enchiladas, or Salisbury steak. I need to do some serious shopping because living off of frozen dinners and sandwiches from the deli down the street from MontBlake is kind of pathetic. “Mom still not talking to me?”
His heavy sigh comes through the line. “Give her time. She’ll come around.”
I put the Salisbury steak into the microwave and press the frozen dinner button. “She’ll have to because this is my life, not hers.”
“She’ll figure it out eventually. But you know how your mother is.”
“Stubborn and always right?” According to her, anyway.
My dad laughs, and I can’t help but join in. “One out of two ain’t bad,” he says. His laughter dies a second later, turning into a coughing fit.
“You promised you’d quit.”
“Hey, I’m down to half a pack a day. Give your old man a break, okay?”
His chain-smoking habits, coupled with the old man part is what concerns me the most. Dad is fifteen years older than Mom, and he isn’t getting any younger.
“I worry about your health.”
“I’m fine, Julie Bean.”
“How’s Brit?” A change of subject is needed. I don’t want to get into an argument with the only member of my family who isn’t upset with me for choosing to live on the other side of the country.
“Your sister is…” He clears his throat. “Well, you know how your sister is. Nothing will keep that girl down. She just signed a modeling contract with some fancy clothing line in the city.”
“That’s great! I know how hard she worked for it.” The photo shoots and various modeling jobs to build her portfolio finally paid off. My first instinct is to call and congratulate her, but I give that another thought. Unlike Mom, Brit’s still speaking to me, but the few times we’ve talked on the phone, her tone has been icy.
“I’ll pass on your regards.” Another coughing fit fractures our conversation. “Sorry, Jules. I’ve got an early day tomorrow, so I’m off to bed.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Even with the two hour time difference, he’s calling it a night earlier than usual.
“Stop worrying about me. I told you I’m fine. Just caught a summer cold, is all.”
“Summer ended last week.”
“I’m fine, Jules.”
“I can’t help it.” I open the microwave to stir the potatoes before setting it to cook for a few more minutes. “I worry about you.”
