Forty-four
Wes shifted his gaze from his phone to the clock on the night table beside his childhood bed. In twenty minutes, Nadine had her meeting with Daniel. Her last text had been, I’m going to throw up.
He’d sent her back a heart emoji and some gold flags, backed up with the good vibes he’d been aiming in her direction all day. That is, all the ones he could spare, because his mother had not taken his coming home well yesterday and had been especially displeased by the cats. He didn’t blame her, but it was another reason he needed to sort out his life.
A text came in from Caleb. Talk to Pris yet?
Pris was the employment lawyer he’d recommended and had been as sharp as Caleb promised. She hadn’t been sure they could prove Tyler’s lies but told him they’d make the Spear suffer.
She’s great , wrote back Wes.
Remember loyalty is a one-way street for a company. You don’t owe them shit.
Wes had to read this twice. This isn’t your usual defense of capitalism.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot. There was a pause. Talked to Isabel about the wedding.
Wes sat down, preparing himself for bad news. And?
I was honest about feeling like a fungible asset.
Is that how you phrased it?
Yeah, why?
Wes tried not to laugh. Caleb was something. No reason. What’d she say?
Cried, like I said she would, and said she was doing her best, which I know is true. But I asked her why we were doing this. I’m spending my best years away from her and for what?
How did it go?
It took a while for the block of text that was Caleb’s reply to arrive.
Good. She thought I was the one who wanted all this stuff and she’d been doing it to keep me happy, which kind of killed me. You know what the guys at work are like. I hadn’t realized how much I’d been doing to keep up with them, and she was worried because she thought she needed to do the same. We’ve been working sixty-hour weeks for a life neither of us want.
Now what? asked Wes. This was big. Huge, for Caleb.
First thing is that we’ve decided to have a small wedding and I’m not taking the contract extension. I want to be with Isabel. She’s cutting down her hours too, and then we’re going to see.
Congratulations.
Hey, it’s not so small a wedding you can’t have a plus-one.
Good. Because I think Nadine would love to come.
LOL that’s my boy.
Wes put his phone down, and his smile disappeared as Ma’s key sounded in the lock. His heart raced. He was astonished to realize it always did when she was home, as his whole body went on alert, trying to anticipate what she would need from him. It had been such a relief to experience not walking on eggshells during the last three weeks that he couldn’t believe he’d stood it for all those years. Erma put a paw on his leg, and he gave her a pet.
Well, he didn’t have to deal with it much longer. The moment he’d arrived home, he’d known it was time for him to move out, despite his lack of employment. He would give his mother a month to get used to the idea as he searched for a place. He’d sent Ella the money for her Italian internship but still had enough to afford a small, cheap apartment that would be all his own.
The front door closed. Wes thought of raking the Zen garden and walked down the hall to the kitchen to greet his mother.
“Hi, Ma,” he said in an even tone calculated not to offend. “How was your day?”
“As if you care,” she said, taking the tea canister down and banging it on the maroon laminate counter.
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care,” said Wes.
“If you cared, my tea would have been ready, and you wouldn’t have left for three weeks, barely talking to your mother.”
“I texted while I was away, and you didn’t answer. Amy said she helped out.”
“Amy is a good girl,” said his mother with satisfaction. “I have one good child.” She looked at Erma. “I said I wanted these cats gone.”
“No, you said they were my responsibility.” Wes gripped the back of the chair. His mother hadn’t said a word about getting rid of them. Not one.
“I didn’t. I told you to get them out of my house.”
A text came in from Nadine. Meeting pushed up. Going in. Wish me luck.
He sent back a heart as his mother watched with suspicious eyes. “Who are you talking to?” she asked.
“A friend.” Wes wasn’t ashamed of Nadine, but he also saw no reason to give his mother more ammunition. He nudged Erma gently with his foot, urging her back to the safety of his room, but she stayed close.
“A friend?” His mother’s voice grew high. “I bet it’s a woman. You deserted me for a woman. What kind of son are you?” She slapped her hand to her chest as if stunned at his perfidy and started to cry.
Wes watched this anticipated response and waited for the guilt. Instead, he felt new emotions edging in. Was it pity? A bit, and a lot of exasperation. Resentment. He didn’t care to look too closely at that one.
“I didn’t desert you,” he said. “I’m sitting right here in front of you.”
“The girls have left me. Your father. Everyone leaves.”
“Ma, you’re not listening. We’re still a family. Amy is only down the street, and when I leave, I’ll be close as well.” Oh no. He hadn’t meant for it to come out like this. He had planned to minimize the impact, although he’d known there would never be a good way to tell her.
“When you what?” Her hands hit the table, and Erma bolted at the sharp sound.
Wes decided to come out with it fully. “I’m going to move out,” he said. “Next month, as soon as I find a place.”
“Moving out.” His mother’s laugh had that bitter edge he hated. “This is my repayment. No one to take care of me. All my life, I do nothing but work for you, and I get nothing. Nothing!”
No matter how many times Wes heard a variation on this, it always hurt. He swallowed hard. “Ma, I know it’s a change, but it will be good for us to have some space.”
“You can’t leave,” she said loudly. “It’s your job to be here, after all the years I took care of you.” She clutched at her chest. “My heart. This is your fault. It’s your fault my life is like this. You need to fix it.”
The guilt and remorse and frustration and all those other feelings were shoved aside in a mighty push as he remembered Nadine’s words. “No,” said Wes, almost disbelieving it as it came out of his mouth.
His mother stopped crying and stared at him, hand dropping to her side. “What did you say?”
Wes looked straight at her, hoping he could break through and they could finally, for once, talk like adults. “I love you, Ma, and I’ll help and support you, but it’s not my responsibility to fix everything that went wrong in your life. I’m sorry you had a hard time. I’m grateful for the sacrifices you made for us. But ensuring your happiness is not my job.”
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish.
Wes sat down at the table, feeling a confidence that had elements of unreality, like an out-of-body experience. “We need some boundaries until I move.”
“Boundaries?” She repeated the word like it was dirty. “I gave birth to you.”
“I know, Ma, but this is important to me.”
“Enough,” she said, her voice getting high. “This is Amy’s fault. The new woman. Poisoning you.”
“No, it’s not. Blaming others won’t help.”
“Go ahead,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as if daring him. “If I’m such a terrible person, leave. Leave now.”
“Ma, please don’t be like that. We can work this out if we talk.” His mouth was dry with tension, but he didn’t want to get a glass of water. Not with his mother standing at the sink, her lips working with outrage.
His calm tone seemed to infuriate her more. “No talking! Go! You’re no longer my son. I only hope you treat that woman better than you treat me. Just like your worthless father, you don’t care about anyone but yourself. Get out. Out! Out!”
She came at him with hands outstretched as if to shove him out the door, and Wes jumped to his feet, sadness layered with the fear that had always lain like a membrane over their relationship. He didn’t trust himself to speak but went to his room, her insults ringing down the hall as he left. It didn’t take him long to pack his belongings, and the television in the front room started blaring as he locked the surprisingly docile cats in their carriers. It was as if they understood it was time to go as much as he did.
His mother didn’t turn her head from the television as he walked through with his baggage, nor did she move when he finished taking everything to the sidewalk and came back. Despite the ugliness of what she’d said, he couldn’t leave without saying something. He stood to her side and looked at her, a small woman with a hard expression who refused to move her eyes from the people laughing on the screen.
“Ma,” he said and waited. He spoke again. “I’ll be in touch.”
When there was no answer, he left.
Wes stepped outside, closing the door carefully behind him before raising his face to the sun. Being outside was like breathing in air after being submerged. He almost gulped it in.
It took a few minutes to maneuver everything into his car, and ten minutes after that, he was at Amy’s apartment. He’d always been so hesitant to impose on his sister—he was supposed to be there for her after all, not vice versa—that he’d never thought it was an option, despite Amy’s open-door invitation. Nadine had shown him it was fine to ask for what he needed, and he didn’t hesitate to ring her bell.
“I thought you were at Ma’s,” Amy said, opening the door.
“She kicked me out.”
“Wes, what?” Her eyes widened. “She did what?”
“We had a fight, and she kicked me out.” He was thirty, but the rejection still hurt. To his surprise, no tears came. He felt mostly numb.
“Get in here.” Then she saw the carrier in his hand. “What is that? A cat? You have a cat?”
“Not one.”
“Wes, how many cats?” She looked around him into the hall. “Oh my God.”
“Four.” He brought them in as Amy’s jaw dropped.
“You don’t like cats,” she whispered.
“Don’t say that around them. They’re sensitive.” He leaned down to whisper to the cages. “Don’t listen to her. You know I love you.”
“Oh, you’re a cat daddy now.” She laughed. “Nice. Well, I was thinking of getting one anyway.”
“Four isn’t much more trouble than one.”
“Sure, Wes.”
They released the cats and watched Sidonie-Gabrielle disappear as the rest sniffed around their new environment. “The spare bedroom is yours for as long as you need,” said Amy quietly.
A small dart of warmth pierced through the dullness in his mind. “Thanks, Amy.”
“I told you, you were welcome anytime.” She slung an arm around him. “It gets better when you have time away from her. I swear it does. I’m here to help.”
He hugged her, feeling better. “I know.”
Amy stepped away. “Welcome home, big brother.” She glanced over. “But if your cats scratch that couch, you’re dead.”