have my own life, but she doesn't even realize she's taking it.”
He sounded so alone in the dark. So forlorn and lost. I wished I could take the pain away from his voice, absorb it into myself so he wouldn't have to have it anymore.
“I'm sorry,” I said, saying the only thing I could think of. I could see his shadow shrug, his head slowly turning back towards me from the window.
“It's not your fault. I'm just so frustrated. The worst part is she doesn't even realize she is doing it. I hate that I'm stuck in this stupid town because she doesn't know how to be alone anymore. I hate it here. There is nothing I want here anymore,” he said into the darkness. I was glad the darkness hid my features. Nothing I want here. I knew he didn't mean me, but I wanted to cry. The insinuation stung.
“I'm sorry,” I repeated softly.
“I didn't mean it like that, Holly. I just, I just don't want to be here anymore. I want to get away from this place. Away from the memories. I feel like I am just spinning my wheels here while the world passes me by,” he rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out how to say what he was trying to say. I stayed quiet this time, not really trusting my voice. Andrew could always tell when I had been crying, or was about to cry. It was like a superpower of his. An awkward silence started to fill the car, but before I was forced to reply, Andrew's phone began to wail.
“Hey Mom. No, I... I'm fine Mom. I'm actually with Holly, we just stopped to talk for a little bit... Mom says hi, Holly,” he said as he leaned back in the seat. I could see his shoulders sag from an invisible weight as he spoke with his mother. “I'll be home in a little bit. Just turn the thermostat up a little... Yes, please start dinner. That sounds great, Mom.” A moment later he put his phone back in his pocket and sighed.
“Tell me your troubles,” I said turning towards him.
“What? No.” He shook his head, his lips keeping the no going long after his voice.
“Come on. We used to talk all the time. Talk to me. If nothing else, vent. Get it out. No judging here. Everything stays in the car- you know the drill,” I coaxed. He sighed and flung himself back into the seat. It took a moment, but he started talking.
“Mom 'forgot' to get the groceries again this week,” he said flatly.
“I remember- I saw you at the store. You said she wasn't up for it,” I nodded encouragingly.
He sighed and continued. I closed my eyes, imagining the scene he was laying out. I could see his mom, the layout of his house, the way their kitchen somehow always smelled of fresh bread.
▪▪▪
Andrew set the last bag of groceries from the car on the floor of the kitchen, making sure he didn't track any mud into the house. Audrey, his mother, was busy putting them away as quickly as he brought them in. He began to help her, putting the milk in the fridge and shuffling around the contents to make room for the rest of the food.
“Thank you for getting the groceries, Andrew. After last night's shift, I just couldn't get going this today. Your dad used to do the grocery shopping for me- he would always buy something special for you, remember?” She stopped for a moment, her eyes going distant, as she drifted into the past.
“Yeah, I remember Mom. He would always get me a special cereal or dessert or something. How about I just plan on doing all the grocery shopping from now on? I can do it on my way home from work on Thursdays and that way and you don't have to worry about it,” Andrew said as he put the eggs away.
“Oh no honey! I am the parent here. You shouldn't have to do that. I appreciate you doing it today, but I'll do it next time,” Audrey said putting her hand on his shoulder. Andrew sighed. That was what she had said last time. And the time before that, and the time before that.
Andrew couldn't remember the last time she had actually gone to the grocery store. Every week she waited until the last moment to ask him to go for her. One week he had gone preemptively, figuring that she