Roommating

Chapter Thirty-Eight

A ll tension has left my body post massage.

My muscles feel like Jell-O. Wanting to extend this afterglow as long as possible, I take the glass of cucumber water my masseuse, Gary, handed me into the waiting room and fill a cup with a mixture of raw nuts, banana chips, and dried fruit.

Then, still in my robe and slippers, I sink onto a beige suede reclining chair next to my mom and sister, who it seems aren’t in any rush to return to reality either.

I breathe in the scent of eucalyptus oil as a feeling of well-being washes over me.

My mom’s eyes open halfway. “How was it?” The words come out drowsy, almost like she’s on drugs.

“Amazing,” I whisper back. “Yours?”

“Same.” She closes her eyes again and smiles contentedly.

For the next several minutes, the room is silent as the three of us enjoy the blissful aftermath of our treatments.

The version of Sabrina who walked into the spa two hours earlier, wound up and heavyhearted, no longer exists.

Thanks to Gary’s long, kneading strokes along my body with jojoba oil, I have a new outlook on life.

Living with Adam was a learning experience.

It taught me I’m capable of compromise and flexible with my space and routine.

And yes, it was also fun. I hadn’t made time for boys and sex, and he got me out of my drought.

But it was the idea of him that I liked—a smart, funny, kind…

okay, hot , man who loves books, dogs, and his grandmother, and isn’t too alpha to admit he’s horrible at techie stuff—not him specifically.

Now I know those men exist and I will meet someone else eventually.

I suddenly feel a burst of gratitude for my big sister for unknowingly coming to my rescue by offering this all-expenses-paid experience (minus the tip) to put things into perspective.

I sit up. Keeping my voice quiet, I say, “Thanks again, Aud. This was just what I needed.”

Audrina remains still, and for a second I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. After a moment, she says, “Same. And you’re welcome.”

“And I love spending time with my two daughters even if we’re in separate rooms and not speaking.”

Audrina and I share a skeptical look. Our mom’s affection for us has never been in question, but the demonstrative statements aren’t her brand.

To counter the vicarious cringe of her sentimentality, I joke, “I’d think you’d be sick of Audrina by now. She’s best in small doses.”

Audrina pouts. “How quickly gratitude turns to ridicule in this family.”

I chuckle.

“Girls,” Mom says sternly, proving she can still scold us with her eyes closed (and probably hands tied behind her back too).

“If Mom is sick of me, which is highly unlikely, the good news is I’ve saved enough money to rent my own place again.”

“That’s great!” I’m happy for my sister (if not also a bit envious) and assume our mother is both relieved and pleased by Audrina’s refound independence.

“Thanks! I’m going to stay another few months to boost my cushion though.”

Mom says nothing, insinuating this isn’t news to her.

And just like that, my sense of calm disappears and I burst into tears, shocking my mother, sister, and myself in one fell swoop.

Audrina shoots up in her chair. “Oh my God. What’s wrong?”

“Are you hurt?” Mom asks, alarm in her voice.

“I’m fine,” I choke out, but the uncontrollable sobbing makes me a liar, as do the big fat tears pouring out of my eyes. My chest heaves with them and I can’t stop.

The blurry blob that is my sister says, “Is this about Adam?”

Because I can’t speak at the moment, I shake my head in answer.

It’s not about Adam. At least it’s not all about him (because who am I kidding?

I didn’t like the idea of him. I liked him ).

It’s everything: Adam, my bank account, the trip to Europe I didn’t know how much I wanted to take until I realized I couldn’t.

But the true cause of my breakdown, without a shadow of a doubt, is the ease with which Audrina asks for and accepts our mom’s financial support while I can’t, or more accurately, won’t .

While my sister manages to float through her period of economic distress using my mom as a raft, I’m drowning and it’s no one’s fault but my own.

“Massages have a way of releasing emotions you don’t even know you’re carrying,” Audrina says, now at my side rubbing my back.

“You can talk about sex with me, you know. We’re all grown-ups here,” Mom says.

Another spa client walks into the room, and we pause speaking while she pours a cup of tea and sits on an empty chair.

“It’s not about sex,” I hiss as quietly as possible. My gaze darts to my mom and quickly away. I’ve stopped actively crying, but my chin trembles in the aftermath.

“Then what is it about?” she asks.

Through my teeth, I say, “Not now.” I lift my chin toward the stranger in the room. “People come here to relax and treatments aren’t cheap. I won’t ruin it for them by doing this here.”

Mom pulls me up by the arm. “Then come with me.” She drags me toward the exit while Audrina looks on with a bemused expression.

“We’re in our robes!” I flash a timid, apologetic smile at the receptionist.

To the person at the front desk, Mom says, “I promise we’re not going any farther than the parking lot.” She removes her credit card from the pocket of her robe and hands it over. “This is collateral.”

I frown. “You brought your credit card into the massage with you? Isn’t that what the lockers are for?”

“I see you’ve regained the ability to communicate.

Good. That will come in handy. Besides, your sister works here.

They’ll know how to find us. Let’s go.” She pulls me out the door, where it’s a perfect June day—dry with a pleasant temperature of about seventy degrees.

Too bad there’s a storm brewing inside me.

The spa is located in a small strip mall housing two other stores: a fancy sandwich shop and a bougie boutique.

Fortunately, neither are heavily populated today and no one else is outside save for two women who just left the sandwich shop and are walking to their car.

We wait for them to pull out before facing each other.

“This is about me, isn’t it?” Mom says, all knowing as ever.

The vision of my mother standing in a public parking lot wearing a fluffy white robe and towel-cloth slippers with her hair standing up at weird intervals and a postmassage pink glow to her face would make me laugh if we were out here to talk about anything else. “Sort of. You and Audrina.”

Her eyebrows draw together. “What about us?”

I wrap my robe tighter around me. I’m going commando underneath. “You always lectured us on doing whatever it took to be financially independent and then you let her move back home with you rent-free.”

“Yes,” she says, as if it were a question to be answered.

I lick my lips. Fuck , this is hard. “Since graduating college, I’ve never asked you for anything. I didn’t think I could, and I also didn’t want to. I wanted to prove to you I could take care of myself like you did. But the thing is, I’m really struggling.”

She reaches for me.

“Please let me finish.” I take a deep breath and let it out.

“My job pays crap, but it’s all I ever wanted to do so I don’t complain, except that I need to spread that money over a lot of things.

My rent is cheap comparatively speaking, but it eats up most of my paycheck, and there are other expenses.

I’m also paying off my school loans already because you put the fear of credit card debt in me growing up. ”

“Guilty.”

“Carley is begging me to go to Europe with her this summer—she says I’m only young once and deserve a break from working and studying. I desperately want to go, but it’s not the responsible move for a struggling grad student whose automatic phone payment was declined for insufficient funds.”

Mom’s face goes white. “What?”

I gulp. “I worked it out with them to pay late, but yeah.” I take a deep breath and let it out.

“Adam thought I should ask you for help right from the start, when I missed out on the scholarship…” I chew my lip.

I never told her about that. “But I didn’t want to involve you because I’m a grown woman living on my own.

Then you let Audrina move home, and of course I wouldn’t deny her that, but there were no lectures about her getting her act together and being independent.

So here I am, unwilling to ask you for help because you worked so hard for every cent and I don’t want you to use any of your well-earned retirement money when I’m an adult capable of taking caring of myself, while Audrina says she’ll stay even longer than she needs to for a cushion and you’re totally okay with it with zero stern talk…

and well, I’m just so tired of trying to figure out everything on my own and could really use a cushion too! ” I burst into tears again.

Mom blinks. She takes a step back and does a half turn.

I think she’s going to walk away from me but then she faces me again with tears in her eyes and pulls me into the tightest hug of my entire life.

She squeezes me so hard like she’s afraid I’ll try to wriggle out of her embrace and chants, “I’m so sorry, baby.

I’m so sorry!” over and over again into my hair.

When she finally lets me go, her formerly dewy pink skin is blotchy and her eyes are red.

“You’ve been afraid to ask me for help all this time? ”

I shrug. “Not afraid as much as… proud maybe? I can’t explain it. You did it yourself. Shouldn’t I try to do the same?” I flash a sheepish smile. “But yes, kind of afraid too.”

She groans. “I didn’t do it all by myself, Brina Bear.

I had your grandparents! With both of my parents gone, your father’s were all I had.

I didn’t want their help, but I was desperate for it and they were desperate to give it.

They couldn’t control their son’s actions, but they could control what happened to his family and begged me to let them help.

” Her eyes turn heavy. “They loved you girls so much and were afraid they’d lose you too. ”

My eyes well up again. So much for resolving my grandma issues.

As if reading my mind, she says, “We talked about you, you know.”

My breath hitches. “Who? You and Nana?”

She smiles softly. “Yes. She knew you were working through your father issues on some sort of delayed schedule and she hated it.”

My shoulders sag with the weight of my guilt.

“She was less concerned with her own feelings… though of course, she missed your closeness… than knowing you were in pain. We both knew you’d come through the other end eventually.”

“You did?” I wipe my nose.

She nods. “Remember that card you made her? The one where you matched compliments to the letters in her name? Lovely…”

“Energetic!”

“Nice. Angelic.”

I snort. “I was such a dork!”

“You sure were.”

We laugh.

“She knew you loved her. Through all of it.”

Mom’s expression is so earnest, I’m forced to trust her. I want to trust her.

“Back to the topic at hand. Don’t put me on a pedestal.

I would have lost the house if Lena and Lou hadn’t helped pay the mortgage.

And I wouldn’t have eventually built up my own savings if she hadn’t taken care of you girls so I could go to work.

” She shakes her head. “I hate that my own daughter isn’t comfortable enough to tell me when she’s struggling.

I relied on my mother-in-law the same way you can rely on me. ”

I shuffle my feet. “But you always taught us to be independent and not need anyone.”

She sighs. “I was mostly talking about not relying on a romantic partner because I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you, but regardless, financial independence is something I want for both of my girls.

And I want you to want it as well! I know I drilled it into you and I’m glad you listened to an extent.

But it’s rarely something you can achieve uninterrupted over a lifetime.

And if you’re lucky enough to have someone to support you when you’re struggling, you accept it.

Why do you think I’ve worked this hard? For you!

” She raises and drops her shoulders. “This is a failure on my part. I should have known. I should have asked. I’m asking now. How much do you need?”

My instinct, out of sheer habit, is to insist I don’t need her help or at the most give her a lowball number.

I recall Adam saying rather than assume my mom wants me to figure everything out on my own instead of supporting me financially, to give her a chance to decide for herself.

I also know she’s serious about wanting to help me.

Her tears don’t lie, and also, what’s in it for her to be dishonest?

If you’re lucky enough to have someone to support you, you accept it.

“An extra few thousand dollars in my bank account would legit help me sleep at night.”

“Done.”

“And maybe a bit more so I can go to Europe with Carley next month?” I grit my teeth, afraid I took her generosity too far.

“Yes. Definitely.” She takes both of my hands in hers.

“Listen… none of this means you should stop working hard toward financial independence. I don’t intend to bankroll you through life, but Carley is right that you deserve a break, and even if it means taking time off from work this summer, or pushing back classes until the fall, you should do it.

You have your whole life to do the ‘responsible thing,’ and I trust you will.

Today, let me be the mom. I won’t always have this opportunity.

If it makes it easier for you to say yes, think of it as doing me a favor.

” She gives me a wry grin and lets go of my hands.

I hurl myself at her and this time, it’s me squeezing so hard she couldn’t escape my embrace if she tried.