Chapter 13

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           Thefollowingday,IcallmymomafterIgethomefromwork.It’sbeenarelativelypeacefuldayatClayton’s,allowingmefartoomuchtimetothink.I’mrestless,nervousaboutmyshowdownwithMr.ControlFreaktomorrow,andatthebackofmymind,I’mworriedthatperhapsI’vebeentoonegativeinmyresponsetothecontract.Perhapshe’llcallthewholethingoff.

           Mymomisoozingcontrition,desperatelysorrynottomakemygraduation.Bobhastwistedsomeligament,whichmeanshe’shobblingallovertheplace.Honestly,he’sasaccident-proneasIam.He’sexpectedtomakeafullrecovery,butitmeanshe’srestingup,andmymotherhastowaitonhimhandandsorefoot.

           “Ana,honey,I’msosorry,”mymomwhinesintothephone.

           “Mom,it’sfine.Raywillbethere.”

           “Ana,yousounddistracted—areyouokay,baby?”

           “Yes,Mom,”Oh,ifonlyyouknew.There’sanobscenelyrichguyI’vemetandhewantssomekindofstrangekinkysexualrelationship,inwhichIdon’tgetasayinthings.

           “Haveyoumetsomeone?”

           “No,Mom.”Iamsonotgoingthererightnow.

           “Well,darling,I’llbethinkingofyouonThursday.Iloveyou…youknowthat,honey?”

           Iclosemyeyes.Herpreciouswordsgivemeawarmglowinside.

           “Loveyou,too,Mom.SayhitoBob,andIhopehegetsbetterfast.”

           “Willdo,honey.Bye.”

           “Bye.”

           Ihavestrayedintomybedroomwiththephone.Idly,Iswitchthemeanmachineonandfireupthee-mailprogram.There’sane-mailfromChristianfromlatelastnightorveryearlythismorning,dependingonyourpointofview.