*
Mace and I were sitting in Lee’s office. I was behind the desk in Lee’s chair. Mace was on the desk, sitting close. Next to his thigh were the wrappers from our spicy chicken tortil a wraps.
I sucked on the straw, procrastinating by consuming the watery dregs of a long since dead Diet Coke. I was staring at the phone Mace placed in front of me next to the wrappers.
“Kitten,” Mace said softly.
I didn’t take my eyes from the phone.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“Do it fast. Get it over with,” Mace encouraged.
I looked up at him. Then I set down my dead Diet Coke.
Then I tossed my hair.
“Right. Fast. Over with. Here I go.”
I picked up the receiver, dialed the number to my childhood home that, even after years I hadn’t forgotten and sat and listened to it ring.
“Hel o,” my Mom said. She sounded seven hundred years old.
My eyes flew to Mace. He leaned forward and put his hand on my neck right where it met my shoulder. Then he squeezed.
Strength flowed though me.
That may sound stupid but it was true.
“Mom?” I cal ed.
Silence.
“Mom? You there?”
“Stel a?”
“Yeah, Mom. It’s Stel a.”
“Stel a,” she breathed.
“Hey. How’re you doin’?”
Silence.
Then I heard a hitch, like she was crying.
Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
How’re you doin’? What kind of question is that? My brain asked.
I ignored my brain.
“Mom, I know what’s going on,” I told her.
“You do? How do you know?” Mom asked.
“I have a friend who… wel , he’s more than a friend. He’s kind of my boyfriend.” I looked up at Mace. He wasn’t looking concerned anymore, his mouth was twitching.
Effing hel .
I kept going. “Wel , we’re actual y kind of living together.
His name is Kai Mason. I cal him Mace. Though, not just me. Everyone does. That is, everyone cal s him Mace.” Why was I babbling?
“Anyway, he’s nice and he’s cute. You’d like him.” Cute?
I was stil babbling!
“How do you know what’s going on?” Mom got back to the subject.
“Wel , he’s also a private investigator.” Mom gasped.
“No! No, he didn’t investigate you or anything. I mean, wel , he did. After we found out from his Dad, who’s kind of a jerk…” My eyes skidded toward Mace’s face again but I couldn’t see it as his head was tilted down. His shoulders were shaking however and I knew it was with laughter. I forged ahead, “Anyway, it’s a long story. His Dad told me you were sick so Mace checked up on you and he told me you were in trouble. So –”
“Did you pay the mortgage?”
My hand went to Mace’s thigh, I squeezed and his head came up. I was right, he was smiling.
The smile faded when I said, “No, I didn’t pay the mortgage. Mace did.”
“Your Dad’s real mad about the mortgage. Went to the bank and told them to return the money but they won’t do it because we’re behind.”
“He’s going to have to get over it,” I told her. “We’re sending more money, Mom. Our friends did a col ection.”
“Don’t do that Stel a.”
“Mom –”
“Don’t you do it, girl,” she snapped.
Al of a sudden her voice had changed and I felt the blood run out of my face.
She could be harsh but it was unusual. Mostly she was quiet, timid and did everything she could to be invisible.
Mace saw me pale and his eyes narrowed on my face.
He dropped his hand from my neck, sat straight and hit the button for the speakerphone.
I stil talked into the handset.
“Mom, you have to take the money.”
“My life’s been a livin’ hel since you left, girl.” I heard Mom over the speakerphone and her voice was sharp and ugly. “You left me to him. Didn’t think for a second about me, what I might go through with you gone. You were always so damned selfish. Then I got the cancer. We don’t hear word one from you for years. Now you think you can swoop in, big time rock star, in the papers, datin’ a famous athlete, make it all better.” She dragged out the “al ” with acid sarcasm.
I felt my heart lurch and my stomach clench as my mother delivered her gut kick.
She sounded like Dad.
And she’d seen the papers.
Which meant she knew I was the target of a kil er.
And she didn’t care.
“Mom.”
“He’s on a tear about this money. You ain’t helpin’ things.
I don’t need this. I need to rest.”
“Mom, let me help.”
“You can help by keepin’ your nose outta our business.
You wanted to be gone, Stel a, you’re gone. Let me die in peace.”
“Mom.”
“Don’t cal back and I ain’t tel in’ him that money was from your hotshot boyfriend neither. I got enough to deal with.”
“Please, Mom, listen to me.”
But the phone was dead.
I stared at it, silent.
Mace was not silent, he muttered, voice low, “You have got to be fuckin’ shittin’ me.”