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“Perfect, I’ll make your favorite pot roast. Just the way you liked it back then,” she says excitedly.
“You don’t have to bother about that,” I tell her shyly.
“Nonsense, leave me to worry about it,” she says, so I drop the topic.
“How is my Michael doing?”
“He is fine. He is in school. As a matter of fact, he wanted to come with me, but I told him to focus on his academics,” I tell her.
“That sounds good; maybe someday, our boy will bring him to meet us,” she says, and I give her a wry smile.
“I’ll see what I can do with that,” I tell her. They wait a few minutes before leaving. Instantly, I call Michael.
“Hey, Mom,” he says, and all my worries dissipate. This is the brightness in my life, my joy.
“How are you, my pumpkin?” I ask with a smile.
“Ugh, Mom! I’ve told you not to call me that anymore. I’m a grown-ass man now,” he says, and I chuckle.
“I don’t care how old you are; you remain, my baby,” I tell him. I smile when I hear his loud groan.
“There is no winning against you. Anyways, how was the funeral?” He asks, and my smile drops.
“It was good,” I tell him.
“Good? That was your dad. Come to think of it, it’s sad I never met him,” he says.
“I told you it was for the best,” I snap.
“Oops, I’m sorry. I just hope you’re good,”
“I’m sorry, son. I shouldn’t have snapped. You just wanted answers. I promise to give them to you when the time is right. For your second question, yes, I’m good. Although, I have to delay my flight for about a week. Apparently, I’m supposed to see his lawyer and sign some papers,” I tell him.
“That sounds like a lot of process,” Michael says.
“You can say that again. How is school?” I ask.
“School is good, although a bit hectic, but I’m learning to live with it,” he says, and I smile. I remember the day he was leaving for college. I had tears in my eyes even though I knew it was only right for him to live his life.
“That’s great to hear. If you need to talk about anything at all, I’m always here,” I tell him.
“Of course, Mom, you tell me that every day. How can I possibly forget?” He drawls, and I smile.
“Whatever,” I tell him.
“Okay, Mom, I have to go now. I need to do some reports to be submitted tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later,” he says.
“Okay, bye, pumpkin. I love you,” I tell him; I’ll never get tired of it.
“I love you too, Mom,” he says, and I chuckle.
“Okay, bye, darling,”
“Bye, Mom,” he says. I sigh as I end the call while wondering what I’ll do at this house for the rest of the day.
* * *
I sighwhen I reach the last step. I draw my robe closer and tie the sash. It took me a long time before I finally fell asleep last night, and now, barely three hours later, someone is at the door. Last night is a reminder of how dark and empty this place is. I can’t wait to go to Aunt Maryann’s place. There is no way I will stay weak here, or I might lose my mind. I groan as the doorbell goes off again. For goodness’ sake, it’s barely 8:00am in the morning. It could be anybody at the door. I try to straighten my hair, but I know how pointless that will be; so I stop trying.
