looked up at me. My mom had never looked old to me, I
guess because she wasn't, but she looked tired. Her
eyeliner had smudged a little as though applied by an
unsteady hand, or as if she'd been rubbing her eyes. She
did that when she had a headache.
'You okay, Mom?'
'Fine, baby.' She pressed the folded bil toward me again,
even though I jerked my hand away. 'Take this.'
'I said
She frowned. I looked like my dad most every other time,
but now I saw myself in her face. 'Paige. You can't tel me
that fancy apartment's not expensive.'
'And I have a good job, remember? You don't have to
worry so much. Realy. I'm happy to take Arty to the
movies. I'm fine.'
movies. I'm fine.'
With a sigh she tucked the bil into the pocket of her jeans.
'As if you'd tel me otherwise?'
She had me there. I merely grinned and shrugged. She
shook her head and bent to help Arty slide his arms into
his sleeves. Considering how much Arty was bouncing up
and down it was no smal feat. I reached a hand to help
her and she stepped back with a strangely defeated sigh.
'Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go!'
'Chil, little dude. Chil,' I admonished with a hard look at my mom. 'You sure you're okay?'
'Just tired, baby. Go have fun. I'l see you when you get
back. Not too late,' she cautioned for Arty's benefit and
not mine. 'School tomorrow.'
Arty, stil bouncing, grabbed for my hand. 'Let's
goooooooo!'
Like me, my little brother looked like the man who'd
fathered him. Personalitywise, though, he was almost
entirely my mother. Nonstop chatter from the backseat
entirely my mother. Nonstop chatter from the backseat
kept me entertained on the ten-minute drive to the mal.
Growing up, I'd had to go al the way to Palmyra to hit a
multiplex, but now Lebanon had its own stadium-seating
theater fancy enough to rival anything in Harrisburg. The
prices were cheaper, too, a reminder there were some
minor advantages to life in the town where I'd grown up.
Halfway through the movie, my phone vibrated against my
thigh. I flipped it open with a sigh when I saw who it was
from…ignoring the fact that not only did I recognize the
number on sight, but that I had, in a fit of insanity, assigned
it a photo. I shielded the glare of the backlight with one
hand as I read it.
Where you @?
I didn't reply, just flipped the phone closed and slid it back
into my jeans pocket. The movie went on and on. And on.
